








**** '-life /°" ••'iiR* ^ ' 










^ 



<£' 







A 



Rosary for Lent; 



OR, 



DEVOTIONAL READINGS, 



ORIGINAL AND COMPILED, BY THE AUTHOR OF 
" RUTLEDGE." 



j;l^ 






•-. 



m& 



New York : 
G. W, Carleton & Co., Publishers. 

LONDON : S. LOW SON & CO. 

MDCCCLXVII. 



*d& 

* * 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by 

GEO. W. CARLETON, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
Southern District of New York. 




The Library 

OF CoS^t?- 






The New York Printing Company, 

81, 83, and 85 Centre Street^ 

New York. 



?Uebiccition. 

TO THE 

REV. GEORGE H. HOUGHTON, D.D., 

SECTOR OF THE CHURCH OF THE TRANSFIGURATION, NEW YORK. 

FROM PARISHIONER TO PASTOR, WITH TRUE 
GRATITUDE AND REVERENCE. 



*< 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Ash-Wednesday. — Repentance . . . 15 

First Thursday. — Self-Examination . . . .21 

First Friday. — Example 26 

First Saturday. — Distractions in Prayer ... 30 

First Sunday. — Fasting y] 

First Monday. — Abandonment to the Will of God . 42 

First Tuesday. — Diligence 52 

Second Wednesday. — Content 57 

Second Thursday. — Simplicity 63 

Second Friday. — Anger 68 

Second Saturday. — The Joys of Heaven ... 72 
Second Sunday. — The Great Enemy ... 76 
Second Monday. — Use of Time .... 82 
Second Tuesday. — Alms-giving .... 88 

Third Wednesday. — Alms-giving .... 93 
Third Thursday. — Weariness in Worship . . 96 

Third Friday. — Love to Christ 103 

Third Saturday. — Plans 108 

Third Sunday. — Doubts 118 

Third Monday. — The Trials of Illness, Despondency 123 
Third Tuesday. — The Trials of Illness, Pain . .132 
Fourth Wednesday. — Ministry of Angels . .139 

Fourth Thursday. — Adversity 142 

" " — Danger of Riches . . .149 



CONTENTS 



Fourth Friday. — Spiritual Darkness 

Fourth Saturday. — The Dark Side of Death 

Fourth Sunday. — The Bright Side of Death 

Fourth Monday. — Words .... 

Fourth Tuesday. — Meditation . 

Fifth Wednesday. — The Mother of Our Lord 

Fifth Thursday. — Prayer in the Morning . 

Fifth Friday. — The Hiding of God's Face 

Fifth Saturday. — The Ministers of God's Wor 

Fifth Sunday. — A Lord's Day . 

Fifth Monday. — Quietness and Confidence 

Fifth Tuesday — The Soul 

Sixth Wednesday. — One Flock and One Shepherd 

Sixth Thursday. — Humble Walking 

Sixth Friday. — The World, the Flesh, and the Dev: 

Sixth Saturday. — Charity . 

Palm Sunday . : 

" " —Jesus Wept 

Monday in Holy Week. 

" " " — Unfruitfulness . 

Tuesday " " — Christ in the Temple 

" " " — Christ's Sympathy 

Wednesday " " — The Betrayal 

" " " — Judas Iscariot 

Thursday " " — The Last Supper 

" " " — Gethsemane 

Good-Friday. — The Crucifixion 

" " — The Cross 

Easter Even. — The Sepulchre . 

« « —The Dead in Christ 

Easter Day. — The Resurrection 
" " — Resurgam . 



-The Cursing of the Fi°f 



-Tree 



PAGE 

155 
l6l 
168 

174 
179 
I84 
I89 
194 
199 
207 
215 
220 
224 
231 
238 
249 
260 
262 
268 
269 
278 
280 
289 
290 
299 
301 
311 
313 
330 
332 
341 

344 



— b 



PREFACE. 



®ft? compiler of this volume has very little of 
originality to claim for it, either in matter, or in 
manner of arrangement. She simply hopes 
that it may be a pleasant .and perhaps profit- 
able companion to those who always seek for 
thoughtful reading during Lent. 

And if any, to whom Lent is unfamiliar, 
should be induced to take it up, because they 
have hitherto kindly been her readers, she would 
earnestly ask that they will not lay it aside, dis- 
couraged by a name, or by forms with which they 
are unacquainted. It is little beside names 
and forms which separate those who love our 
Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity ; has not each 
Christian made a step in advance when he has 



I 



XI 1 PREFACE. 

overcome a prejudice, or thrown aside an un- 
charitable judgment ? 

If this " chaplet of spiritual roses," culled as 
it has been from many gardens, shall allure any 
to the garden of her own particular choice, it 
will be well : but if it inclines any others to the 
conviction that all gardens of the Lord are fair, 
it will be better. 

New York, December, 1866. 



" Welcome, dear feast of Lent ; who loves not thee, 
He loves not temperance nor authority, 
But is composed of passion. 
The Scriptures bid us fast; the Church says, now : 
Give to thy mother what thou wouldst allow 
To every corporation." 



Bi.MM 



^sl)-toe5nes5aa 



Repentance. 



^bflVu, I have fasted, I have prayed, 
And sackcloth has my girdle been ; 

To purge my soul I have essayed 
With hunger blank and vigil keen ; 

O God of mercy ! why am I 
Still haunted by the self I fly ? " 

Sackcloth is a girdle good, 

Oh, bind it round thee still ; 
Fasting, it is angels' food, 

And Jesus loved the night air chill ; 
Yet think not prayer and fast were given, 

To make one step 'twixt earth and heaven. 

Lyra Apostolica. 



y&*W* 



|T was an ancient custom in England 
and in other places, to make use 
of the ashes of the branches that 
had been carried in the procession 
on Palm Sunday in the preceding 
year, to sprinkle the heads of the penitent faith- 
ful on Ash-Wednesday. These branches were 







1 6 A BOS ART FOR LENT. 

kept tied up in little faggots in the sacristy or 
vestry-room till the morning of Ash-Wednesday, 
when they were burnt and blessed again. 

It was a very suggestive custom, this linking 
the fast of last year with the fast of this, a cus- 
tom that might well have added many humiliat- 
ing thoughts to those who participated in the 
services of the day. It was like sprinkling them 
with the ashes of their own good resolutions, 
their unfulfilled vows, their tarnished hopes. At 
the end of last year's fast, with what sobered eyes 
they had looked upon the world ; with what ardor 
they had turned heavenward ! On Palm Sunday, 
already in the shadow of the Holy Week, their 
hearts were soft with sorrow, anticipating the 
dreadful Friday, wise with the prayers and homi- 
lies of the long fast just ending, full of brave 
intentions and professions. " Prayers blown 
wide by winds of care," vows too pure to 
be fulfilled, hopes that had faded in the glare 
of worldliness — these were the ashes that were 
sprinkled on their heads. They must have 
had heavy hearts to begin a new Lent with the 
ashes of the last upon their foreheads- — a new 
year with the failure of the old so fresh before 
them. 

Ash-Wednesday is, from its nature, the 
gloomiest and coldest day of the Church year. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 7 

Good-Friday is thrilled through and through 
with love and holy hope, but Ash-Wednesday 
brings us face to face with ourselves, and " self- 
knowledge is knowledge of sin." We have 
turned from the world, and gone down resolutely 
into the crypt that lies below the cheerful struc- 
ture of our every-day lives. We know that it 
is well to be there, but we have not yet learned 
to love its silence and solemnity. We see our 
sins, we dread their punishment, we feel the 
chill of the place. It would be perhaps a wise 
thing to spend a small part of Ash- Wednesday, 
but only a small part, in thinking of our sins, 
simply and solely of our sins, our failures, our 
shame. And calling all our imagination to help 
us, to think what it would be if, at the end of 
our life's Lent, there were to come no Good- 
Friday and no Easter. If we were just sinners, 
and we had no Christ. That thought might 
make us see more truly the sinfulness of sin. 
It might wring out more gratitude and peni- 
tence from us, and make us more glad to be 
Christians, even though stumbling, and back- 
sliding, and dull-minded Christians. For that, 
perhaps, we all are, in our own eyes and in 
God's, whatever our fellows may think of us. 
But disheartened Christians let us never be. 
Not with the Cross and the open grave before 






-* 



1 8 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

us. For no matter how lost our year may seem 
to us, there will be something in it that Infinite 
Love will gather up and treasure. And the life 
within us springs up and grows we know not 
how. One year will not perfect us, nor two, nor 
three. But year after year, Lent after Lent, each 
one a step beyond the other, may bring us to 
where the perfect life joins this. Therefore let 
us keep the fast with hope. 



§?tt$t guilt lies behind us, and is well forgotten. 
There is a way in which even sin may be ban- 
ished from the memory. If a man looks forward 
to the evil he is going to commit, and satisfies 
himself that it is inevitable, and so treats it 
lightly, he is acting as a fatalist. But if a man 
partially does this, looking backward, feeling 
that sin when it is past has become part of 
God's universe, and is not to be wept over for 
ever, he only does that which the Giver of the 
Gospel permits him to do. Bad as the results 
have been in the world, of making light of sin, 
those of brooding over it too much have been 
worse. Remorse has done more harm than 
even hardihood. It was remorse which fixed 



*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 9 

Judas in unalterable destiny ; it was remorse 
which filled the monasteries for ages with men 
and women whose lives became useless to their 
fellow-creatures. It is remorse which so re- 
members by-gone faults, as to paralyze the 
energies for doing Christ's work ; for when you 
break a Christian's spirit, it is all over with 
progress. Oh, we want everything that is hope- 
ful and encouraging for our work, for God knows 
it is not an easy one. And, therefore, it is that 
the Gospel comes to the guiltiest of us all, at 
the very outset, with the inspiring news of par- 
don. You remember how Christ treated sin. 
Sin of oppression and hypocrisy, indignantly ; 
but sin of frailty — " Hath no man condemned 
thee ? " " No man, Lord," " Neither do I con- 
demn thee ; go and sin no more." As if he 
would bid us think more of what we may be 
than of what we have been. There was the wis- 
dom of life in the proverb with which the widow 
of Tekoab pleaded for the restoration of Absalom 
from banishment before David. Absalom had 
slain his brother Amnon. Well, Amnon was 
dead before his time, but the severity of revenge 
could never bring him back again. " We must 
all die," said the wise woman, " and are as water 
spilt upon the ground, which cannot be gathered 
up again." Christian brethren, do not stop too 



20 A EOSAET FOR LENT. 

long to weep over spilt water. Forget your guilt, 
and wait to see what Eternity has to say to it. 
You have other work to do now. 

Robertson. 



W UHtj fallen again ? yet cheerful rise, 
Thine Intercessor never dies. 

Keble. 



*tt)frl« 



A ROBARY FOR LENT. 



21 



jftrst tityursbag. 



%i\i-(&x%mxmtion. 



^t*y all means use sometimes to be alone. 

Salute thyself: see what thy soul doth wear. 

Dare to look in thy chest ; for 'tis thine own ; 

And tumble up and down what thou find'st there. 
Who cannot rest till he good fellows find, 
He breaks up house, turns out of doors his mind. 

Herbert. 




EFORE we depart out of the dark- 
ness of this world, let us kindle the 
lamp of knowledge, that we may 
not merely exchange temporal for 
eternal night. What knowledge 
have we ? We know that "the Lord cometh," 
but we know not when. Not all have even this 
knowledge. For think you that any would re- 
joice and make merry, still living in sin, did 



mm 



22 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

they know or consider that the Lord comes ? 
If they say so, they do not believe it, "for he 
who saith, I know Him, and keepeth not his 
commandments, is a liar." True knowledge 
works in the first place repentance and grief, 
changes laughter into weeping, joy into sorrow. 
In the second place, amendment ; no longer are 
the members made instruments of unrighteous- 
ness, revelling is banished, pride mortified, and 
the body preserved in temperance and chastity. 
The Spirit guards every avenue of evil, directs 
its attention on every side ; hence is born, 
thirdly, watchfulness. We begin to walk thought- 
fully before our God, to examine ourselves care- 
fully, that we offend not wilfully, in the least 
degree, the Majesty of Him with Whom we have 
to do. 

Bernard. 



W£\\$\\ we are inquiring into the state of our 
minds, we should recollect that we are in the 
presence of God, to whom our most secret 
thoughts are open and naked ; and therefore 
we should impartially compare our most secret 
actions by the standard of his laws ; for though 
we may impose upon ourselves and others, we 
cannot deceive an omniscient God. We should 
consider also that we must soon appear before 



— "J- 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 2$ 

the dreadful tribunal of God to render an ac- 
count of all our thoughts, words, and actions. 
And we should endeavor to escape the terrors 
of that awful trial, by frequently reviewing our 
hearts and lives, and confessing our sins to God, 
that we may obtain, by repentance, his mercy 
and favor, through the prevailing intercession 
of his Son Jesus Christ. 

We should supplicate the grace of God to 
enlighten us in the knowledge of ourselves, to 
expose to us our own unworthiness and guilt. 
We should try ourselves by some of the leading 
principles and duties of religion — whether we 
have frequent and serious thoughts of God — 
whether we view with lively gratitude and faith, 
the exalted plan of salvation through his Son 
Jesus Christ — whether we cherish firm and 
lively resolutions of obeying Him — whether we 
faithfully perform the duties of that station in 
which we are placed, both in reference to the 
public and our own private families — whether we 
are active and zealous in doing all the good in 
our power to the bodies and souls of men — in 
short, whether the service of God be our su- 
preme aim and highest enjoyment. We should 
also consider the several aggravations of our 
transgressions — whether they were committed 
against the light of our minds, with the free 



'+ 



2 4 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

consent of our wills, and despite of the checks 
of our own conscience — whether they have been 
often repeated, and are transient acts or settled 
habits ; and we should carefully note the previous 
steps by which we have been led into sin, and 
the peculiar infirmity of our own character, that 
we may, for the future, be on our guard against 
temptation. 

We should every evening direcl to our own 
consciences such inquiries as the following : 
How have we spent the day ? What sins have 
we committed ? What duties have we omitted ? 
Have we regularly performed the duties of 
public and private devotion ? Have we em- 
braced every opportunity which offered of doing 
good ? Has our intercourse with others been 
marked with candor and affability ? Have we 
avoided the vices of evil-speaking and slander, 
the bane of society ? Have we conducted our 
business with honesty and fidelity ? Have we 
improved usefully our leisure time ? Have our 
relaxations and amusements been confined with- 
in the bounds of Christian moderation ?■ What 
mercies have we received ; and how thankful 
have we been for them ? , What temptations 
have we resisted ? What progress have we 
gained in overcoming, through divine grace, our 
sinful passions ? Have we this day cherished a 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 25 

constant sense of the presence and inspection 
of God, and lifted up our souls to Him in devout 
gratitude, as our Creator, Benefactor, Preserver, 
and Redeemer ? Having thus reviewed the 
state of our minds and our conduct through the 
day, we should humbly supplicate the forgiveness 
of God for the sins which we have committed, 
and render Him the glory and praise of all our 
good and virtuous actions. We should, through 
divine grace, resolve on better obedience for 
the future ; and should make reparation to our 
neighbor for whatever injuries we have done him 
in his person, property, or character. 

The frequent examination of our hearts and 
lives makes us thoroughly acquainted with our- 
selves, a knowledge of the greatest importance. 
It prompts us to repentance, as the only remedy 
for the guilt which, by our sins, we have con- 
tracted. It disposes us to humility, from a lively 
sense of our frequent errors and miscarriages. 
It keeps us in a state of constant preparation 
for death, by making us careful to avoid all sin, 
and by exciting us to the practice of those holy 
graces and virtues which will prepare us for 
Heaven. 

Bishop Hobart. 

2 



26 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Jftrst Jfribd!). 



temple. 



" For I have five brethren ; that he may testify unto them, lest they also 
come into this place of torment." 

I 

$Xt loving souls, each one as mine, 

And each forevermore to be ! 
Each deed of each to thrill 

For good or ill, 
Along thine awful line, 

Eternity ! 

Who for such burden may suffice ? 

Who bear to think, how scornful tone, 
Or word or glance too bold, 

Or ill dream told, 
May bar from Paradise 

Our Master's own ? 

We scatter seeds with careless hand, 
And dream we ne'er shall see them more ; 



+' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 2J 

But for a thousand years 

Their fruit appears, 
In weeds that mar the land, 

Or healthful store. 

The deeds we do, the words we say — 

Into still air they seem to fleet ; 
We count them ever past, 

But they shall last ; 
In the dread judgment they 

And we shall meet ! 

I charge thee by the years gone by, 
For the love's sake of brethren dear, 
Keep thou the one true way 

In work and play, 
Lest in that world their cry 
Of woe thou hear ! 

Lyra Innocentium-. 



|F you be a holy people, you are also 
a royal priesthood ; if you be all 
God's saints, you are all God's 
priests ; and if you be His priests, 
it is your office to preach too ; as we by words, 
you by your holy works ; as we by contempla- 
tion, you by conversation ; as we by our doctrine, 
so you by your lives, are appointed by God to 
preach to one another ; and therefore every par- 
ticular man must wash his own feet, look that 
he have speciosos pedes, that his example may 




28 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

preach to others, for this is truly a regal .priest- 
hood, not to work upon others by words but by 
actions. If we love one another, as Christ loved 
us, we must wash one another s feet, as He com- 
manded His apostles ; there is a priestly duty 
lies upon every man, brotherly to reprehend a 
brother whom he sees trampling in foul ways, 
wallowing in foul sins. 

Donne. 



U/UV many deeds, the thoughts that we have thought, 

They go out from us, thronging every hour ; 

And in them all is folded up a power 

That on the earth doth move them to and fro ; 

And mighty are the marvels they have wrought, 

In hearts we know not, and may never know ! 

Our actions travel, and are veiled ; and yet 

We sometimes catch a fearful glimpse of one, 

When out of sight its march hath well nigh gone ; 

An unveiled thing which we can ne'er forget ! 

All sins it gathers up into its course, 

And they do grow with it, and are its force ; 

One day, with dizzy speed, that thing shall come, 

Recoiling on the heart that was its home. 

Faber- 



is so infectious as example. If you 
wish your neighbors to see what Jesus Christ 
is like, let them see what He can make you like. 
If you wish them to know how God's love is 
ready to save them from their sins, let them 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 29 

see His love save you from your sins. If you 
wish them to see God's tender care in every 
blessing and every sorrow they have, why let 
them see you thanking God for every sorrow 
and every blessing you have. Example is 
everything. One good man — one man who 
does not put his religion on once a week with 
his Sunday coat, but wears it for his working 
dress, and lets the thought of God grow into 
him, and through and through him, till every- 
thing he says and does becomes religious, that 
man is worth a ton of sermons — he. is a living 
Gospel — he comes in the spirit and power of 
Elias — he is the image of God. And men see 
his good works, and admire them in spite of 
themselves, and see that they are godlike, and 
that God's grace is no dream, but that the Holy 
Spirit is still among men, and that all noble- 
ness and manliness is His gift, His stamp, His 
picture ; and so they get a glimpse of God again 
in His saints and heroes, and glorify their Father 
who is in Heaven. 

Kingsley. 



•j> <b 



30 A BOSARY FOR LENT. 



^irat Satutfrag. 



glisiractiong in |)rager. 



! dearest Lord, I cannot pray, 
My fancy is not free ; 
Unmannerly distractions come, 
And force my thoughts from Thee. 

The world that looks so dull all day, 
Glows bright on me at prayer, 

And plans that ask no thought but then, 
Wake up and meet me there. 

All nature one full fountain seems, 

Of dreamy sight and sound, 
Which, when I kneel, breaks up its deeps, 

And makes a deluge round. 

Old voices murmur in my ear, 

New hopes start into life, 
And Past and Future gaily blend 

In one bewitching; strife. 



IJ-ll'UUnHH 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 3 1 

My very flesh has restless fits, 

My changeful limbs conspire 
With all these phantoms of the mind, 

My inner self to tire. 

I cannot pray ; yet, Lord ! Thou knowest 

The pain it is to me, 
To have my vainly struggling thoughts 

Thus torn away from Thee. 

Prayer was not meant for luxury 

Or selfish pastime sweet ; 
'Tis the prostrate creature's place 

At his Creator's feet. 

Had I, dear Lord, no pleasure found 

But in the thought of Thee ; 
Prayer would have come unsought and been 

A truer liberty. 

Yet Thou art oft most present, Lord, 

In weak, distracted prayer ; 
The sinner out of heart with self^ 

Most often finds Thee there. 

For prayer that humbles, sets the soul 

From all illusions free ; 
And teaches it how utterly, 

Dear Lord, it hangs on Thee. 

The heart that on self-sacrifice 

Is covetously bent, 
Will bless Thy chastening hand that makes 

Its prayer, its punishment 



•fc 



* 



32 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

My Saviour, why should I complain, 
And why fear aught but sin ? 

Distractions are but outward things ; 
Thy peace dwells far within. 

These surface troubles come and go^ 
Like rufflings of the sea ; 

The deeper depth is out of reach, 
To all, my God, but Thee. 



Faber. 




jOU ask me how you are to a 61 in 
order to bring your spirit straight 
to God, without looking either to 
the right hand or to the left. 

This proposition is so much the 
more pleasing to me because it carries its own 
answer with it. You must do as you say, go 
straight to God, without looking to the right 
hand or to the left. 

I see well enough that this is not what you 
ask me ; but your question is, how you ought to 
act, so to strengthen your spirit in God, that 
nothing may be able to detach it from Him. 

Two things are necessary for this, death and 
salvation ; for after that there will be no more 
separation, and your spirit will be indissolubly 
attached and united to its God. 

You tell me that this, again, is not what you 
ask ; but what you are to do in order to prevent 



*■ 



* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 33 

the least fly from drawing away your spirit from 
God, as happens but too often. 

You apparently mean to say, the least distrac- 
tion ; but you ought to know that the least fly 
of distraction does not draw away your spirit 
from God, for nothing draws us away from God 
but sin ; and the resolution which we have made 
in the morning to keep our spirit united to God, 
and attentive to His presence, makes us remain 
there always, even when we sleep, since we do 
so in the name of God, and according to His 
most holy will. 

Even venial sins are not capable of turning 
us aside from the path which conducts us to 
God. They doubtless stop us somewhat in our 
road ; but they do not turn us aside from it, and 
much. less do simple distractions. 

As for mental prayer, it is not the less profit- 
able or less pleasing to God for having in it 
many distractions ; on the contrary, it will per- 
haps be more profitable to us than if we had 
much consolation, because there is thus more 
labor in it ; provided, nevertheless, that we have 
the will to draw ourselves away from these dis- 
tractions, and that we do not voluntarily allow 
our minds to rest upon them. 

It is the same with the trouble which we have 
all through the day in fixing our mind on God 



34 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

and heavenly things, provided that we take pains 
to recal our mind, and to hinder it from running 
after these flies, persevering with patience, and 
not tiring of our toil, which is endured for the 
love of God. 

A careful distinction must be made between 
God and the feeling of God ; between faith and 
the feeling of faith. A person who is going to 
suffer martyrdom for God does not always think 
upon God during that time ; and although he 
has not at that moment the feeling of faith, he 
does not for all that fail to merit it, or to make 
an act of very great love. It is the same with the 
presence of God ; we must be contented with 
considering that He is our God, and that we are 
His feeble creatures, unworthy of this honor, as 
St. Francis did, who passed a whole night saying 
to God, " Who art Thou, and who am I ? " 

There is nothing to fear. At the death of 
our sweet Jesus He made darkness to come 
upon the earth. I think that Magdalen, who 
was with the Blessed Virgin, was very mortified 
that she was no longer able to see her dear 
Lord : she was nevertheless as near to Him as 
before. Let it alone ; all is going on right. As 
much darkness as you please, but nevertheless 
we are near the light ; as much helplessness as 
you please, but we are at the feet of the Almighty. 



* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 35 

Live Jesus ! may we never separate ourselves 
from Him, whether in darkness or in light. 

You do not know what I think of your asking 
me for remedies ; it is, that I do not remember 
that our Lord ever gave command to heal the 
head of the daughter of Zion, but only her heart. 
No, doubtless, he never said, " Speak ye to the 
head of Jerusalem," but " Speak ye to the heart 
of Jerusalem." Your heart is in good order, 
since your resolutions in it are living. 

St. Francis de Sales. 



^Jlttt would my thoughts fly up to Thee, 
Thy peace, sweet Lord, to find ; 

But when I offer, still the world 
Lays clogs upon my mind. 

Sometimes I climb a little way, 
And thence look down below ; 

How nothing there, do all things seem, 
That here make such a show ! 

Then round about I turn my eyes 

To feast my hungry sight ; 
I meet with Heaven in everything, 

In everything delight. 

I see Thy wisdom ruling all, 
And it with joy admire ; 



*' 



3^ A BOSABY FOB LENT. 

I see myself among such hopes 
As set my heart on fire. 

When I have thus triumphed awhile, 

And think to build my nest, 
Some cross conceits come fluttering by 

And interrupt my rest. 

Then to the earth again I fall, 

And from my low dust cry, 
'Twas not in my wing, Lord, but Thine 

That I got up so high. 

And now, my God, whether I rise, 

Or still lie down in dust, 
Both I submit to Thy blest will, 

In both, on Thee I trust. 

Guide Thou my way, who art Thyself 

My everlasting end, 
That every step, or swift or slow, 

Still to Thyself may tend ! 

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 

One Consubstantial Three, 
All highest praise, all humblest love, 

Now and forever be ! Amen. 

John Austin. 









A ROSARY FOR LENT. 37 



iftrst 0rniba2- 



dasting. 



M)\% true, we cannot reach Christ's fortieth day, 
Yet to go part of that religious way, 

Is better than to rest ; 
We cannot reach our Saviour's purity, 
Yet are we bid, " Be holy e'en as He," 

In both let's do our best. 

Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone, 
Is much more sure to meet with Him, than one 

That travelleth by-ways. 
Perhaps my God, though He be far before, 
May turn and take me by the hand ; and more, 

May strengthen my decays. 

Yet, Lord, instruct us to improve our fast 
By starving sin, and taking such repast 
As may our faults control : 



.*' 



3§ A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

That every man may revel at his door, 
Not in his parlor ; banqueting the poor, 
And among those his soul. 



Herbert. 




|E that undertakes to enumerate the 
benefits of fasting may, in the next 
page, also reckon all the benefits 
of physic ; for fasting is not to be 
commended as a duty, but as an 
instrument ; and in that sense no man can reprove 
it or undervalue it, but he that knows neither 
spiritual arts nor spiritual necessities. But by 
the doctors of the Church it is called the nou- 
rishment of prayer, the restraint of lust, the 
wings of the soul, the diet of angels, the instru- 
ment of humility and self-denial, the purification 
of the spirit ; and the paleness and meagreness 
of visage which is consequent to the daily fast 
of great mortifiers is, by St. Basil, said to be the 
mark in the forehead, which the angel observed, 
when he signed the saints in the forehead to 
escape the wrath of God. " The soul that is 
greatly vexed, which goeth stooping and feeble, 
and the eyes that fail, and the hungry soul, shall 
give Thee praise and righteousness, O Lord !" 

Bishop Taylor. 



A ROSARY FOE LENT. 39 

WfaCtt the pious Christian observes days of absti- 
nence with proper dispositions, when he looks 
upon fasting, not as an essential part of religion, 
but simply as auxiliary to the due performance 
of religious acts, to the mortifying and subduing 
of criminal appetites and passions, and to the 
spiritualizing of the soul : when he sets apart 
for prayer, self-examination, and contrition, and 
for the receiving of religious instruction and 
reproof, that time which Christians have in 
genera] allotted for these ends ; when he thus 
complies with the directions of his lawful supe- 
riors, and of ancient canons, and with the usages 
of the church of which he is a member ; when he 
does not hope by abstinence at one season to com- 
pound for excess at another; when he is fully 
persuaded that neither one day nor one meal is 
holier or cleaner than another ; yet on certain days 
chooses to abstain from certain meats, not because 
they are unlawful, but because they are less 
subservient to keeping the body under subjection ; 
when in things indifferent he neither rigorously 
confines himself to rules, nor adopts what might 
tend either to trench on Christian liberty or to 
open a door to licentiousness ; when he thus 
keeps the appointed fasts, his practice corre- 
sponds with the intentions of our church and 
the injunctions of the Gospel ; with what our 



40 A BOSAEY FOR LENT. 

Saviour regulated by his precepts, and recom- 
mended by his example, and such a fast we can- 
not hesitate to pronounce will be acceptable 
to the Lord. 

Shepherd. 



5,tv that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend. 
Eternity mourns that. 

Philip von A rtevelde. 



are the days of humblest prayer, 
When consciences to God lie bare, 
And mercy most delights to spare. 
Oh, hearken when we cry, 

Chastise us with Thy fear ; 
Yet, Father ! in the multitude 
Of Thy compassions, hear ! 

Now is the season, wisely long, 
Of sadder thoughts and graver song, 
When ailing souls grow well and strong. 
Oh, hearken when we cry, 

Chastise us with Thy fear, 
Yet, Father ! in the multitude 
Of Thy compassions, hear ! 

The feast of penance ! Oh, so bright 
With true conversion's heavenly light, 
Like sunrise after stormy night ! 






A EOS ART FOB LENT. 41 

Oh, hearken when we cry, 

Chastise us with Thy fear ; 
Yet, Father ! in the multitude 

Of Thy compassions, hear ! 

We who have loved the world must learn 
Upon that world our backs to turn, 
And with the love of God to burn. 
Oh, hearken when we cry, 

Chastise us with Thy fear ; 

Yet, Father ! in the multitude 

Of Thy compassions, hear ! 

Fdber. 



*— 



42 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



jfirst Jllonfraa 



Jpanboumntt to % Hill of (Hob. 



)f it belongs not to my care 
Whether I die or live ; 
To love and serve Thee is my share, 
And this Thy grace must give. 



If death shall bruise this springing seed 

Before it come to fruit, 
The will with Thee goes for the deed, 

Thy life was in the root. 

Would I long bear my heavy load, 
And keep my sorrows long ? 

Would I long sin against my God, 
And His dear mercy wrong ? 



How much is sinful flesh my foe, 
That doth my soul pervert ; 

To linger here in sin and woe, 
And steal from God my heart ? 



'* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 43 

Christ leads me through no darker rooms 

Than he went through before ; 
He that unto God's kingdom comes, 

Must enter by this door. 

Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see ; 
For if Thy work on earth be sweet, 

What will Thy glory be ? 

Then I shall end my sad complaints, 

And weary sinful days ; 
And join with the triumphant saints 

That sing Jehovah's praise. 

My knowledge of that life is small ; 

The eye of faith is dim ; 
But it's enough that Christ knows all, 

And I shall be with Him. 

Baxter. 

HIS abandonment is the virtue of 
virtues ; it is the cream of charity, 
the odor of humility, the reward, as 
I think, of patience, and the fruit 
of perseverance. Great is this vir- 
tue, and only worthy to be practised by the 
dearest children of God. 

" Father," said our sweet Saviour on the cross, 
" into Thy hands I commend my spirit" (St. Luke 
xxiii. 46). It is true, He meant to say that it is 
consummated, and that " / have finished the work 




'* 



44 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

which Thou gavest me to do" (St. John xix. 30 ; 
xvii. 4) ; but, nevertheless, if it is Thy will that 
I remain still upon this cross to suffer yet more, 
I am content therewith ; I resign my spirit into 
Thy hands ; Thou canst do with it as it shall 
please thee. 

We ought to do the same on all occasions, 
whether it be that we suffer, or that we enjoy 
some contentment, thus allowing the Divine Will 
to lead us according to its good pleasure, with- 
out ever allowing ourselves to be engaged with 
our own particular will. 

Our Lord loves with an extremely tender 
love those who thus abandon themselves totally 
to His fatherly care, allowing themselves to be 
governed by His good Providence, without con- 
sidering whether the effects of that Providence 
will be sweet or bitter to them ; being entirely 
assured that nothing can possibly be sent to 
them from that fatherly heart which is not for 
their good and profit, provided they have put 
their whole confidence in Him, and say with a 
good heart, My Father, I resign my spirit, my 
soul, my body, and all that I have into Thy 
hands to do with them in Thy love, whatever 
shall please Thee. 

Sometimes our Lord wills that souls chosen 
for the service of His Divine Majesty, should 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 45 

nourish themselves with a firm and inviolable 
resolution of persevering to follow Him in the 
midst of disgusts, drynesses, dislikes, and bitter- 
nesses of the spiritual life, without consolations, 
favors, tendernesses, or sweetnesses, and that 
they should believe themselves worthy of nothing 
else ; thus following the Divine Saviour with the 
fine point of the spirit, without anything to rest 
upon but His divine will, which so wills it. And 
in this way I desire that we should walk. 

For never shall we be reduced to such an ex- 
tremity as not to be able always to diffuse before 
the Divine Majesty the perfumes of a holy sub- 
mission to His most holy will, and of a continual 
promise never to consent to offend Him. 

It is very true that we must have a great con- 
fidence thus to abandon ourselves without reserve 
to Divine Providence ; but also, when we do 
entirely abandon ourselves, our Lord takes care 
of everything, and conducts everything. But 
if we reserve to ourselves anything about which 
we have not confidence in Him, He leaves us, 
as though he said, You think yourself wise 
enough to manage this affair without me ; I 
allow you to guide it ; you shall see what will 
come of it in the end. 

Magdalene, who was entirely abandoned to 
our Lord, remained at His feet, and listened to 



* 



46 A BOSART FOR LENT. 

Him as long as He spoke ; and when He ceased 
to speak, she also ceased to hear, but she stirred 
not from His side ; so does this soul, abandoned 
to our Lord, abide within His arms, like an 
infant in its mother's bosom, who, when she puts 
him down to walk, walks till his mother again 
takes him up, and, when she would carry him, 
suffers her to do so. He knows not, and thinks 
not whither he is going, but he suffers himself 
to be carried or taken whither his mother 
pleases. Just in the same manner does this 
soul, loving the will of the good pleasure of 
God in all that happens to it, suffer itself to 
be carried, and nevertheless walks, doing with 
great care whatever belongs to the expressed 
will of God. 

You said just now, that if it be really possible 
for our will to be so dead in our Lord, we 
should no longer know what we will or what we 
do not will. 

But I answer, that it never happens, however 
abandoned to God we may be, that our liberty 
does not remain entire ; whence there always 
reaches us some desire and some will ; but these 
are not absolute wills to forward desires ; and 
immediately the soul abandoned to the good 
pleasure of God perceives them, that moment 
she makes them die in the will of God. 



■1»U.MAJ««IW-L.- mi llll»«».BiWWBMW»l i BWlll)IIIMiMIWBiaB 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 47 

You wish, further, to know what foundation 
this perfect abandonment ought to have. 

It ought to be founded on the infinite good- 
ness of God, and on the merits of the death and 
Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, with this 
condition, that we have, and know we have, 
within us an entire and firm resolution of being 
altogether in God's hands, and by abandoning 
ourselves wholly, and without any reserve, to 
His Divine Providence. 

I desire you, however, to observe, that I do 
not say that we must feel this resolution, but 
only that we must have it, and know we have 
it within us ; because we ought not to amuse 
ourselves with thinking what we feel or what 
we do not feel ; and the more because most 
of our sentiments and satisfactions are merely 
the amusements of our self-love. 

Nor must you take me to mean, that in all 
these things we never have desires contrary to 
the will of God, or that our nature is not re- 
pugnant to the events of His good pleasure ; 
for that may often happen. The virtues I speak 
of have their abode in the superior part of the 
soul ; the inferior part ordinarily understands 
nothing of them ; we must make no account of 
it ; but without regarding what it wills we must 
embrace that Divine will, and unite ourselves to 



48 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

it, in spite of such inclinations. Few arrive at 
that degree of perfect riddance of themselves ; 
but we ought nevertheless all to aim at it, each 
according to our vocation and capacity. 

Here is the great maxim. We must look to 
what God wills, and discerning his will, we must 
attempt to fulfil it cheerfully or at least courage- 
ously ; and not only that, but we must love this 
will of God, and the obligation which result from 
it, even were it to herd swine all our life, and to 
do the most abject things in the world. For in 
whatever service God puts us, that ought to be 
all one to us. Here is the very centre of the 
target of perfection at which we ought all to 
aim ; whoever approaches it the nearest is the 
winner of the prize. Courage, I implore you. 
Accustom your will, little by little, to follow 
that of God, to whatever place it leads 
you. Let your will feel sharply goaded when 
your conscience shall say to it, God wills 
it. 

Your meditation is good. Only but stay faith • 
ful to abide near God in this sweet and tranquil 
attention of heart, and in this sweet acquies- 
cence with His holy will ; for all this is pleasing 
to Him. Avoid any violent application of the 
understanding, since such is injurious to you, 
and busy yourself around your beloved object 



*%* r - iiawm ■!■■!■< n i 



►J* m 



A BOS ART FOE LENT. 49 

with the affections, in all simplicity, and as 
sweetly as you can. 

It cannot be helped that the understanding 
now and then makes attempts to apply itself, 
and there is no occasion to be on the watch to 
hinder it from doing so, for that would only 
be a distraction to you ; but you ought to con- 
tent yourself, when you perceive it, with return- 
ing simply to the actions of the will. To keep 
oneself in the presence of God, and to place 
oneself in the presence of God, are, in my 
opinion, two things ; for in order to place one- 
self there, one ought to withdraw one's soul 
from every other object, and render it actually 
attentive to this presence ; but after one has 
placed oneself in it, one always keeps oneself in 
it, so long as, either by the understanding or by 
the will, one performs actions towards God ; 
whether regarding Him, or regarding something 
else for the love of Him ; or regarding nothing, 
but speaking to Him ; or neither regarding Him 
nor speaking to Him, but simply abiding where 
He has placed us. 

And when to this simple abiding there is 
added some feeling that we are God's, and that 
He is our all, we ought to render great thanks 
to His goodness for this. If a statue, which has 
been placed in a niche or in the midst of a hall, 

3 



+« 



-* 



50 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

had the power of speech, and were asked the ques- 
tion, " Wherefore art thou there ? " "Because," 
it would reply, " the statuary, my master, placed 
me here." " Wherefore dost thou not move ? " 
" Because he wills that I should remain in my 
place immovably." " What use art thou of, 
then ? What advantage dost thou derive from 
being thus stationary ? " " It is not for my own 
service that I am here ; it is to serve and obey 
the will of my master." " But dost thou not 
see him ? " " No," the statue would reply ; " but 
he sees me, and takes pleasure in knowing that 
I am where he has placed me." " But wouldst 
not thou be glad to have the power of moving, 
in order to go nearer to him ? " " Not unless 
he commanded me to do so." " Desirest thou 
then nothing ? " " No ; for I am where my 
master has placed me ; and his pleasure is the 
only contentment of my being." 

My God, how happy we are when we will to love 
our Lord ! Let us love Him, then, well ; and let 
us not set ourselves to consider too much in de- 
tail what we do for His love, provided that we 
know that we never will to do anything except 
for His love. 

For myself, I think that we keep ourselves in 
the presence of God even in sleep ; for we 
betake ourselves to sleep in His sight, at His 



231 



»*• 






A ROSARY FOR LENT. 5 I 

good pleasure, and by His will ; and when we 
wake, we find that He is there, nigh unto us ; 
He has not moved, nor have we. We have, 
then, kept ourselves in His presence, though with 
our eyes closed. 

St. Francis de Sales. 



Wit observe here a great truth — the evil of self- 
consciousness. This self-consciousness is all 
evil. He who can dwell on this and that 
symptom of his moral nature is already diseased. 
We are too much haunted by ourselves ; we pro- 
ject the spectral shadow of ourselves on every- 
thing around us. And then comes in the gospel 
to rescue us from this selfishness. Redemption 
is this : to forget self in God. Does not the 
mother forget herself for a time in the child ; 
the loyal man in his strong feelings of devotion 
for his sovereign ? So does the Christian forget 
himself in the feeling that he has to live here 
for the performance of the will of God. 

Robertson. 



*■ 



52 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



jfirst ©ues&cig* 



jliligcnxe. 



(EMnj present holds a future in it 
Could we read its bosom secret right, 

Could we see the golden clue and win it, 
Lay our hand to work with heart and might. 

True it is, we shall not live in story, 
But we may be waves within a tide, 

Help the human flood to near the glory 

That shall shine when we have toiled and died. 

Therefore, though few praise, or help, or heed us, 
Let us work with head or heart or hand ; 

For we know the future ages need us, 
We must help our time to take its stand ; — 

That the after day may make beginning 
Where our present labor hath its end ; 

So each age, by that before it winning, 
To the following help in turn shall lend. 



'a rosary for lent. 53 

Each single struggle hath its far vibration, 
Working results that work results again ; 

Failure and death are no annihilation, 

Our tears, absorbed, will make some future rain. 

Let us toil on ; the work we leave behind us, 

Though incomplete, God's hand will yet embalm, 

And use it some way ; and the news will find us 
In Heaven above, and sweeten endless calm. 

|E have certain work to do for our 
bread, and that is to be done stre- 
nuously ; other work to do for our 
delight, and that is to be done 
heartily ; neither is to be done by 
halves or shifts, but with a will ; and what 
is not worth this effort is not to be done at all. 
There is dreaming enough, and earthiness enough, 
and sensuality enough in human existence, with- 
out our turning the few glowing minutes of it 
into mechanism ; and since our life must at the 
best be but a vapor that appears but for a little 
time and then vanishes away, let it at least 
appear as a cloud in the height of Heaven, not 
as the thick darkness that broods over the blast 
of the furnace and rolling of the wheel. 

Ruskin. 




*|«*BB 



54 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Wb! most voluptuous and loose person breath- 
ing were he but tied to follow his hawks and his 
hounds, his dice and his courtships every day, 
would find it the greatest torment and calamity 
that could befall him ; he would fly to the mines 
and galleys for his recreation, and to the spade 
and the mattock for a diversion from the misery 
of a continual unintermitted pleasure. But, on 
the contrary, the providence of God has so 
ordered the course of things, that there is no 
action, the usefulness of which has made it the 
matter of duty and of a profession, but a man 
may bear the continual pursuit of it without loath- 
ing and satiety. The same shop and trade 
that employs a man in his youth, employs him 
also in his age. Every morning he rises fresh 
to his hammer and his anvil ; he passes the day 
singing ; custom has naturalized his labor to him ; 
his shop is his element, and he cannot, with 
any enjoyment of himself, live out of it. 

Robert South. 



M)\itXt are no such prevalent workmen as sedulity 
and diligence. A man would wonder at the 
mighty things which have been done by degrees 
and gentle augmentations. Diligence and mode- 
ration are the best steps, whereby to climb to 



*- >iri1 "" v ~" " "^' •%- 



A JiOSABY FOE LENT. 55 

any excellency. Nay it is rare if there be any 
other way. The Heavens send not down their 
rain in floods, but by drops and dewy distillations. 
A man is neither good, nor wise, nor rich, at 
once ; yet softly, creeping up these hills, he 
shall every day better his prospect ; till at last 
he gains the top. Now he learns a virtue, and 
then he damns a vice. An hour in a day may 
much profit a man in his study when he makes 
it stint and custom. Every year something 
laid up, may in time make. a stock great. Nay, 
if a man does but save, he shall increase ; and 
though when the gains are scattered, they be 
next to nothing, yet together they will swell 
the heap. He that has the patience to attend 
small profits, may quickly grow to thrive and 
purchase : they be easier to accomplish, and 
come thicker. So he that from every thing col- 
lects somewhat, shall in time get a treasury of 
wisdom. And when all is done, for man, this is 
the best way. It is for God, and for Omnipo- 
tency, to do mighty things in a moment : but 
degreeingly to grow to greatness, is the course 
that He hath left for man. 

Felltham. 



-* 



56 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

o$\\\tt thou hast an alarum in thy breast, which 
tells thee thou hast a living spirit in thee above 
two thousand times in a hour, dull not away 
thy days in slothful supinity and the tediousness 
of doing nothing. To strenuous minds there is 
an inquietude in overquietness, and no laborious- 
ness in labor ; and to tread a mile after the slow 
pace of a snail or the heavy measure of the lazy 
of Brazilia, were a most tiring penance, and 
worse than a race of some furlongs at the 
Olympics. The rapid courses of the heavenly 
bodies are rather imitable by our thoughts, 
than our corporeal motions : yet the solemn 
motions of our lives amount unto a greater 
measure than is commonly apprehended. 

Think not there is a lion in the way, nor 
walk with leaden sandals in the paths of good- 
ness. 

Sir Thomas Browne. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. S7 



Second ttkbnes&ag* 



Content. 



j$>0ttt£ murmur when their sky is clear, 

And wholly bright to view, 
If one small speck of dark appear 

In their great heaven of blue. 
And some with thankful love are filled, 

If but one streak of light, 
One ray of God's good mercy, gild 

The darkness of their night. 

In palaces are hearts that ask, 

In discontent and pride, 
Why life is such a dreary task, 

And all good things denied. 
And hearts in poorest huts admire 

How love has in their aid, 
3* 



58 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



(Love that not ever seems to tire) 
Such rich provision made. 



Trench. 




ONTENT can never dwell but in a 
meek and quiet soul. And this 
may appear if we consider what our 
Saviour says in St. Matthew's gos- 
pel ; for there He says, " Blessed 
are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy : 
Blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall see 
God : Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is 
the kingdom of Heaven : and blessed are the 
meek, for they shall possess the earth." 

Not that the meek shall not also obtain mercy 
and see God and be comforted, and at last come 
to the kingdom of Heaven ; but in the mean- 
time he and he only possesses the earth as he 
goes towards that kingdom of Heaven, by being 
humble and cheerful and content with what his 
good God has allotted him. He has no turbu- 
lent repining vexatious thoughts that he deserves 
better, nor is vexed when he sees others pos- 
sessed of more honor or more riches than his 
wise God has allotted for his share ; but he 
possesses what he has with a meek and con- 
tented quietness, such a quietness as makes his 
very dreams pleasing both to God and himself. 

Isaac Walton, 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 59 

^u£w thy behavior low, thy projects high ; 

So shalt thou humble and magnanimous be ; 

Sink not in spirit ; who aimeth at the sky 

Shoots higher much than he that means a tree. 
A grain of glory mixt with humbleness 
Cures both a fever and lethargicness. 

Herbert. 



■ (Sfltl hath appointed one remedy for all the 
evils in the world, and that is a contented spirit ; 
for this alone makes a man pass through fire 
and not be scorched ; through seas and not be 
drowned ; through hunger and nakedness and 
want nothing." 

" God is the master of the scenes ; we must 
not choose which part we shall act ; it concerns 
us only to be careful that we do it well, always 
saying, . $ f this please God, let it be as it is ; ' 
and we who pray that God's will may be done 
on earth as it is in heaven, must remember that 
the angels do whatsoever is commanded them, 
and go wherever they are sent, and refuse no 
circumstances ; and if their employment be 
crossed by a higher degree, they sit down in 
peace and rejoice in the event ; and when the 
angel of Judea could not prevail in behalf of the 
people committed to his charge, because the 



60 A BOS ART FOB LENT. 

angel of Persia opposed it, he only told the story 
at the command of God, and was as content, 
and worshipped with as great an ecstasy in his 
proportion, as the prevailing spirit. Do thou 
so likewise : keep the station where God hath 
placed you, and you shall never long for things 
without, but sit at home feasting upon the Divine 
Providence and thy own reason, by which we 
are taught that it is necessary and reasonable 
to submit to God." 

" Enjoy the blessings of this day, if God sends 
them, and the evils of it bear patiently and 
sweetly, for this day is only ours ; we are dead 
to yesterday, and we are not yet born to the 
morrow. He, therefore, that enjoys the present 
if it is good, enjoys as much as is possible ; 
and if only that day's trouble leans upon him, 
it is singular and finite. ' Sufficient to the day/ 
said Christ, 'is the evil thereof — sufficient but 
not intolerable. But if we look abroad and 
bring into one day's thoughts the evil of many, 
certain and uncertain, what will be, and what 
will never be, our load will be as intolerable as 
it is unreasonable." 

" Let us often frame to ourselves and represent 
to our considerations, the images of those bless- 
ings we have, just as we usually understand them 
when we want them. Consider how desirable 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 6 1 

health is to a sick man, or liberty to a prisoner, 
and if but a fit of toothache seize us with vio- 
lence, all those troubles which in our health 
afflicted us disband immediately and seem incon- 
siderable. He that is in his health is troubled 
that he is in debt, and spends sleepless nights 
or refuses meat because of his infelicity, let him 
fall into a fit of the stone or a high fever, he de- 
spises the arrest of all his first troubles, and is as 
a man unconcerned. Remember, then, that God 
hath given thee a blessing, the want of which is 
infinitely more trouble than thy present debt, or 
poverty, or loss, and therefore is now more to be 
valued in the possession, and ought to outweigh 
thy trouble. The very privative blessings, the 
blessings of immunity, safeguard, liberty, and 
integrity, which we commonly enjoy, deserve the 
thanksgiving of a whole life. Thou art quit from 
a thousand calamities, every one of which, if it 
were upon thee, would make thee insensible of thy 
present sorrow, and therefore let thy joy (which 
should be as great for thy freedom from them, 
as is thy sadness when thou feelest any of them) 
do the same cure upon thy discontent. 

" The greatest evils are from within us ; and 
from ourselves also we must look for our greatest 
good ; for God is the fountain of it, but reaches 
it to us by our own hands ; and when all things 



* 



62 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

look sadly around about us, then only shall we 
find how excellent a fortune it is to have God to 
be our friend ; and of all friendships, that only is 
created to support us in our needs." 

" Be content to bear thy calamity, because 
thon art sure, in a little time, it will set down 
gentle and easy ; for to a mortal man no evil is 
immortal, and here let the worst thing happen 
that can, it will end in death, and we commonly 
think that to be near enough." 

Bishop Taylor. 



I 



A EOS AMY FOE LENT. 



63 



Qttorib Styurafoas. 



JSimglirifg. 



^\t%\ be Thy love, dear Lord, 
That taught us this sweet way, 

Only to love Thee for Thyself, 
And for that love obey. 

O Thou, our soul's chief hope ! 

We to thy mercy fly ; 
Where'er we are, Thou canst prote6t, 

Whate'er we need, supply. 

Whether we sleep or wake, 

To Thee we both resign ; 
By night we see, as well as day, 

If Thy light on us shine. 



* 



HI 



1 



64 A EOSARY FOR LENT. 

Whether we live or die, 
Both we submit to Thee ; 

In death we live, as well as life, 
If Thine in death we be. 



John A ustin. 






TELL you in truth, as it is written 
in the Book of Kings, God is 
neither in the great and strong 
wind, nor in the earthquake, nor 
in those fires of your excitement 
and disquietude, but in that sweet and tranquil 
breathing of a gentle and almost imperceptible 
air. Allow yourself to be governed by God : 
think not so much of yourself. 

If you wish me to command you, I will do 
so willingly ; and I will command you in the 
first place, that, having a general and universal 
resolution of serving God in the best way that 
you are able, you do not amuse yourself with 
examining and subtlely sifting out what is the 
best way of doing so. You know that God wills 
in general that we should serve Him by loving 
Him above all things, and our neighbor as our- 
selves ; in particular, He wills you to keep a 
rule, — that is enough ; you must do so in good 
faith, without refining and subtlety. Excitement 
and agitation of mind is of no use here. Desire 
indeed is good, but let it be without agitation ; it 



*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 6$ 

is that excitement which I expressly forbid you, 
as it is the mother-imperfection of all imper- 
fections. 

Do not then examine so carefully whether 
you are in perfection or not : here are two 
reasons why you should not. One is, that it is 
to no purpose our examining ourselves in this 
way ; since, were we the most perfect souls in 
the world, we ought never to know or be aware 
of it ; but to esteem ourselves always as im- 
perfect : our examen, then, ought never to be 
directed towards knowing whether we are im- 
perfect, for of that we ought never to doubt. 
From thence it follows that we ought not to be 
surprised at finding ourselves imperfect, since 
we ought never to see ourselves otherwise in 
this life, nor to be saddened on that account, 
for there is no remedy for it. I grant you most 
fully that we ought to humiliate ourselves because 
of it ; for thereby we shall repair our defects, and 
sweetly amend ourselves. Such is the exercise 
for which our imperfections are left to us, who 
are not excusable if we do not seek to amend 
them, or inexcusable if we fail of amending them 
completely ; for it is not with imperfections as 
it is with sins. 

The other reason is, that this examen, when 
it is made with anxiety and perplexity, is only 



66 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

a loss of time ; and those who make it are like 
musicians who make themselves hoarse with 
practising a motett ; for the mind wearies itself 
with an examen so great and so continual, and 
when the time of execution arrives, it can do no 
more. This is my first commandment. 

The other commandment, which is a con- 
sequence from the first one : If thy eye be 
single, thy whole body shall be lightsome, says 
the Saviour. Simplify your judgment ; do not 
make so many reflections and replies, but go 
on simply with confidence ; for you there is 
nothing else in the world but God and yourself. 
You have nothing to do with aught else, except 
so far as God commands it, and in the way in 
which He commands it to you. 

I pray of you, do not look so much hither 
and thither ; keep your eyes fixed on God and 
yourself. You will never see God without good- 
ness, or yourself without misery ; and you will 
see His goodness propitious to your misery. 
Therefore, do not look at anything but this ; 
I mean with a fixed and settled gaze; and 
look at all the rest with a transient glance. 

In the same way avoid minutely examining 
what other people do, or what will become of 
them, but look on them with an eye simple, 
good, sweet, and affectionate. Do not require 



* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 6 J 

in them more perfection than in yourself, and 
do not be astonished at the diversity of imper- 
fections ; for imperfection is not greater imper- 
fection merely because it is unusual. Behave 
like the bees — suck the honey from all flowers 
and herbs. 

My third commandment is, that you should 
behave as little children do. So long as they 
feel that their mother is holding them by the 
leading strings, they go on boldly, and run all 
about, and are not startled at the little falls 
which the feebleness of their limbs occasions. 
Thus, whilst you perceive that God is holding 
you by the good will and resolution which He 
has given you of serving Him, go on boldly, 
and do not be startled at the little shocks you 
will meet with ; and you must not be troubled 
at them, provided that at certain intervals you 
cast yourself into His arms and kiss Him with 
the kiss of charity. 

Go on joyously, and with open heart, as much 
as you can ; and if you do not always go on 
joyously, at least go on alway courageously and 
confidently. 

St. Francis de Sales. 



I 



^ mmmmmmmi ^^ 



68 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Qaonb <|ribag. 



gnger. 



<2Vtt0M % a hurricane inbred ; 
Meekness a calm in heart and head ; 
Revenge, of war runs all the ills ; 
Forgiveness, sweets of peace instils. 

Rebellion an whole realm annoys ; 
Subjection best secures our joys ; 
Self-love insatiate still remains ; 
God's love full satisfaction gains. 

The wicked, like the troubled sea, 
Are ne'er from storms of conscience free ; 
They outrage God's all-seeing eye, 
Till they the devil's martyrs die. 




A ROSARY FOR LENT. 69 

Heaven is of souls the native sphere, 
O heaven-born soul, live stranger here ! 

Bishop Ken. 

|F thou must needs rule, be Zeno's 
king, and enjoy that empire which 
every man gives himself. He who 
is thus his own monarch contentedly 
sways the sceptre of himself, nor 
envying the glory of crowned heads and elohim 
of the earth. Could the world unite in the 
practice of that despised train of virtues which 
the divine ethics of our Saviour hath so incul- 
cated upon us, the furious face of things must 
disappear ; Eden would be yet to be found, and 
the angels might look down, not with pity, but 
joy upon us. 

Sir Thomas Browne. 



%\\t Scriptures exhorteth us "to possess our 
souls in patience ; " whosoever is out of patience 
is out of possession of his soul. 



Bacon. 



£§k is not truly patient who will only suffer so 
much as he thinks good, and from whom he 
pleases. But the truly patient man minds not by 
whom he is exercised, whether by his superior, by 



■JIMUl 



70 .4 iZOS^tfF .FOR LENT. 

one of his equals, or by an inferior ; whether by 
a good and holy man, or by one that is perverse 
and unworthy. 

Thomas a Ketnpis. 



|Jtt every act of sin there are two distinct 
steps. There is the rising of a desire which is 
natural, and being natural is not wrong ; there 
is the indulgence of that desire in forbidden cir- 
cumstances, and that is sin. Let injury, for 
example, be inflicted, and resentment will arise. 
It must arise spontaneously. It is as impossible 
for injustice to be done and resentment not to 
follow, as it is for the flesh not to quiver on the 
application of intense torture. Resentment is 
but the sense of injustice, made more vivid by 
its being brought home to ourselves ; resent- 
ment is beyond our control, so far. There is no 
sin in this ; but let resentment rest there ; let 
it pass into, not justice, but revenge ; — let it smoul- 
der in vindictive feeling till it becomes retalia- 
tion, — and then a natural feeling has grown into 
a transgression. You have the distinction be- 
tween these two things clearly marked in 
Scripture. " Be ye angry " — here is the allow- 
ance for the human ; " and sin not " — here is 
the point where resentment passes into retalia- 
tion. 

Robertson. 



* 



— * 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 7 I 

§Vtt(JW is not always a defect, nor an inordinate- 
ness in man ; "Be angry, and sin not!' Anger 
is not utterly to be rooted out of our ground 
and cast away, but transplanted ; a gardener 
does well to grub up thorns in his garden — 
there they would hinder good herbs from grow- 
ing; but he does well to plant those thorns 
in his hedges — there they keep bad neighbors 
from entering. In many cases, where there is 
no anger, there is not much zeal. 

Doftne. 



! 



'* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Qtconb ©aturbajh 



%\t fogs of peitoert. 



*W WAX is the Heaven we idly dream ? 
The self-deceiver's dreary theme, 
A cloudless sun that softly shines, 
Bright maidens and unfailing vines, 
The warrior's pride, the hunter's mirth, 
Poor fragments all of this low earth ; 
Such as in sleep would hardly soothe 
A soul that once had tasted of immortal truth. 

What is the Heaven our God bestows ? 
No prophet yet, no angel knows ; 
Was never yet created eye 
Could see across eternity ; 
Not seraph's wing for ever soaring 
Can pass the flight of souls adoring, 
That nearer still and nearer grow 
To the unapproached Lord, once made for them so low. 



A EOS ART FOB LENT. 73 

Unseen, unfelt their earthly growth, 
And self-accused of sin and sloth, 
They live and die ; their names decay, 
Their fragrance passes quite away ; 
Like violets in the freezing blast, 
No vernal steam around they cast ; 
But they shall flourish from the tomb, 
The breath of God shall wake them into odorous bloom. 

Then on the incarnate Saviour's breast, 
The fount of sweetness, they shall rest ; 
Their spirits every hour imbued 
More deeply with His precious blood ; 
But peace — still voice and closed eye, 
Suit best with hearts beyond the sky ; 
Hearts training in their low abode, 
Daily to lose themselves in hope to find their God. 

Christian Year. 

HE knowledge of God and His Christ, 
a delightful complacency in that 
mutual love, an everlasting rejoic- 
ing in the enjoyment of our God, 
with a perpetual singing of His 
high praises — this is a heaven for a saint. Then 
we shall live in our own element. We are now 
as a fish in a vessel of water — only so much as 
will keep them alive ; but what is that to the 
ocean ? We have a little air let in to afford us 
breathing ; but what is that to the sweet and 
fresh gales upon Mount Zion ? We have a beam 

4 






■HI ...IJl.HimWUHlU.HI imiMPB.HB.lMll.U.H M.M 



74 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

of the sun to lighten our darkness, and a warm 
ray to keep us from freezing ; but there we shall 
live in its light, and be revived by its heat. 

Baxter. 



<5$ft?tf the infant wakes into the light of this 
world, every organ presently assumes its destined 
functions ; the heaving bosom confesses the fit- 
ness of the material it inhales to support the new 
style of existence ; and the senses admit the first 
impressions of the external world, with a sort of 
anticipated familiarity ; and though utterly un- 
taught in the scenes upon which it has suddenly 
entered, and inexperienced in the orders of the 
place where it must, ere long, act its part, yet it 
is truly meet to be a partaker of the inheritance 
of life. And thus, too, a real meetness for his 
birth into the future life may belong to the 
Christian, though he be utterly ignorant of its 
circumstances and conditions. But the functions 
of that new life have been long in a hidden play 
of preparation for full activity. He has waited 
in the coil of mortality only for the moment 
when he should inspire the ether of the upper 
world, and behold the light of eternal day, and 
hear the voice of new companions, and taste of 
the immortal fruit, and drink of the river of 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 7$ 

life ; and then after, perhaps, a short season of 
nursing in the arms of the elder members of 
the family above, he will take his place in the 
service and orders of the heavenly house, nor 
ever have room to regret the ignorance of his 
mortal state. There is a preparation for that 
higher world, and an adaptation to it immediately 
after death. 

Isaac Taylor. 



7 6 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Kttonb 0tm&<m 



&Ije (Ureal d&iwmg. 



y) f that I could a sin once see ! 
We paint the devil foul, yet he 
Hath some good in him, all agree. 
Sin is flat opposite to the Almighty, seeing 
It wants the good of virtue, and of being. 



But God more care of us hath had : 
If apparitions make us sad, 
By sight of sin we should grow mad ; 
Yet, as in sleep we see foul death, and live, 
So devils are our sins in prospective. 

Herbert. 

jO sooner had the voice of God pro- 
nounced Jesus to be the well-be- 
loved Son of God, but the devil 
thought it to be of great concern- 
ment to tempt Him, with all his 
malice and his art ; and that is the condition of 




MH 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 77 

all those whom God's grace hath separated from 
the common expectations and societies of the 
world. And, therefore, the son of Sirach gave 
good advice : " My son, if thou come to serve the 
Lord, prepare thy heart for temptation." The 
Holy Jesus, having been assaulted by the devil 
and felt his malice by the experiments of 
humanity, is become so merciful a High Priest, 
and so sensible of our sufferings and dangers, by 
the apprehensions of compassions, that He hath 
put a hook into the nostrils of Leviathan ; and 
although the relics of seven nations be in our 
borders and the fringes of our country, yet we 
live as safe as did the Israelites, upon whom 
sometimes an inroad and an invasion was made, 
and sometimes they had rest for forty years ; 
and when the storm came, some remedy was 
found out by His grace, by whose permission 
the tempest was stirred up. And we find 
many persons who, in seven years, meet not with 
a violent temptation to a crime, but their battles 
are against impediments, and retardations of im- 
provement. 

For God impedes the devil's rage, and infatuates 
his counsels ; He diverts his malice, and defeats 
his purposes ; or suffers him to walk in solitary 
places, and yet fetters him that he cannot disturb 
the peace of a child ; He hath given him mighty 



SBB»!« 



-* 



?8 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

power, and yet a young maiden that resists him 
shall make him flee away ; He gave him power 
over the winds, and made him prince of the air, 
and yet the breath of a holy prayer can drive 
him as far as the utmost sea ; and it is by the 
grace and mercy of God, put into the power of 
every Christian, to do that which God, through 
Jesus Christ, will accept to Salvation ; and neither 
man nor devils shall hinder it, unless we list our- 
selves. 

Bishop Taylor. 



$t* J|iW0ttt observes well, that the devil, in- 
tending mischief to our blessed Saviour, invited 
Him " to cast Himself down." He may persuade 
us to a fall, but cannot precipitate us without 
our own act. And it is an infinite mercy in 
God, that the devil, who is of malice infinite, is 
of so restrained and limited a power that he 
can do us no ghostly disadvantage, but by per- 
suading us to do it ourselves. For, let the temp- 
tation be never so strong, every Christian man 
has assistances sufficient to support him, so as 
that, without his own yielding, no temptation is 
stronger than that grace which God offers him ; 
for, if it were, it were not so much as a sin of 
infirmity : it were no sin at all. 

Bishop Taylor. 



A BOS ART FOR LENT. 79 

fP is the devil's part to suggest, ours not to 
consent ; as oft as we resist him, so often we 
overcome him ; as often as we overcome him, so 
often we bring joy to the angels and glory to 
God, who opposeth us that we may contend, and 
assisteth us that we may conquer. 

Si. Bernard. 



fP is a noble thing, at once to participate in 
the frailty of man and the security of a god. 



Seneca. 



^pftltfl to thyself a deep dark valley in which are 
contained lamentations, and mourning, and woe. 
Through that runs a narrow bridge, barely a foot 
in width. Imagine further, a wayfarer passing 
along this perilous route, blindfolded, that he 
cannot choose his steps ; with hands bound that 
he may not use his staff. Think you such an one 
will laugh and joke as he goes on his way ? 
Will he not rather tremble and shiver between 
fear and terror ? Behold further, monstrous birds 
of prey swarming around him, and endeavoring 
eagerly to drag him into the abyss below ; and 
even, as he advances step by step, the single 



SO A EOSARY FOR LENT. 

plank behind him is immediately removed. 
Hear now what this similitude has to say. 
That deep dark valley typifies Hell. All that 
is good finds there no resting-place ; all that is 
evil, painful, and terrible, haunts its recesses. 
The perilous bridge is man's path through life ; 
the planks removed behind the traveller's step 
are the opportunities for ever past which each 
day offers ; the rapid removal forces him cease- 
lessly onward in his fearful course. The swarm 
of birds is the host of the evil spirits. We are 
the wanderers blinded by folly, and bound as 
with a chain by our incapacity for any good. 
Reflect now, whether or not in such danger, 
we need to cry for help to One that is mighty to 
save. 

A nselm. 



Wfot Devil goeth about like a roaring lion, seek- 
ing whom he may devour. Whether we sleep 
or wake, eat or drink, do what we will, day and 
night he lurks around us ; overflowing with 
craft and subtility, directing his arrows against 
us, now openly, now from his hiding-place. 
Countless stumbling-stones has he prepared for 
our feet, and filled our path with snares of all 
kinds ; he has placed snares in riches as in pov- 






A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



81 



erty, snares in words as in works. And yet 
mankind joke and make merry, as if they were 
already in safety and security ! Our relentless 
enemy watches, without sleeping or resting — 
men sleep without watching or praying. 

Soliloquia. 



— + 



8 2 A EOS ART FOR LENT. 



Qttoxib Mcmbag. 



ftse of &inu. 



|$££titt(J with Time, Slack thing, said I, 
Thy scythe is dull ; whet it for shame. 
No marvel, sir, he did reply, 
If it at length deserve some blame ; 

But where one man would have me grind it, 
Twenty for one too sharp do find it. 

Perhaps some such of old did pass, 

Who above all things loved this life ; 

To whom thy scythe a hatchet was, 

Which now is but a pruning knife. 

Christ's coming hath made man thy debtor, 
Since by thy cutting he grows better. 

And in His blessing thou art blest ; 
For, where thou only wert before 
An executioner at best, 
Thou art a gardener now, and more ; 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



83 



An usher to convey our souls 
Beyond the utmost stars and poles. 



Herbert. 




I HE flight of our human hours, not 
really more rapid at any one mo- 
ment than another, yet oftentimes 
to our feelings seems more rapid, 
and this flight startles us like 
guilty things with a more affecting sense of its 
rapidity, when a distant church clock strikes in 
the night time, or when upon some solemn sum- 
mer evening, the sun's disk, after settling for a 
minute with farewell horizontal rays, suddenly 
drops out of sight. The record of our loss in 
such a case seems to us the first intimation of 
its possibility, as if we could not be made sen- 
sible that the hours were perishable until it is 
announced to us that already they have per- 
ished. We feel a perplexity of distress when 
that which seems to us the cruelest of injuries, 
a robbery committed upon our dearest posses- 
sion by the conspiracy of the world outside, 
seems also as in fact a robbery sanctioned by 
our own collusion. The world, and the customs 
of the world, never cease to levy taxes upon our 
time ; that is true, and so far the blame is not 
ours, but the particular degree in which we 
suffer by this robbery depends much upon the 



* 



ta 



*' 



84 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

weakness with which we ourselves become par- 
ties to the wrong, or the energy with which 
we resist it. Resisting or hot, however, we are 
doomed to suffer a bitter pang as often as the 
irrecoverable flight of our time is brough home 
with keenness to our hearts. The spectacle of a 
lady floating over the sea in a boat, and waking 
suddenly from sleep to find her magnificent 
rope of pearl necklace by some accident de- 
tached at one end from its fastenings, the loose 
string hanging down into the water, and pearl 
after pearl slipping off forever into the abyss, 
brings before us the sadness of the case. That 
particular pearl which at the very moment is 
rolling off into unsearchable deeps, carries its 
own separate reproach to the lady's heart. But 
it is more deeply reproachful as the representa- 
tive of so many others, uncounted pearls, that 
have already been swallowed up irrecoverably, 
while she was yet sleeping, and of many beside 
that must follow, before any remedy can be 
applied to what we may call this jewelly hae- 
morrhage. A constant haemorrhage of the same 
kind is wasting our jewelly hours. A day has 
perished from our brief calendar of days : and 
that we could endure ; but this day is no more 
than the reiteration of many other days — days 
counted by thousands, that have perished to 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 8$ 

the same extent and by the same unhappy 
means, viz. : the evil usages of the world made 
effectual and ratified by our own lachete. Bitter 
is the upbraiding which we seem to hear from 
a secret monitor — " My friend, you make very 
free with your days : pray, how many do you 
expect to have ? What is your rental, as re- 
gards the total harvest of days which this life 
is likely to yield ? " Let us consider. Three- 
score years and ten produce a total sum of 
25,550 days ; to say nothing of some seventeen 
or eighteen more that will be payable to you 
as a bonus on account of leap years. Now out 
of this total, one-third must be deducted at a 
blow for a single item, viz., sleep Next on ac- * 
count of illness, of recreation, and the serious 
occupations spread over the surface of life, it 
will be little enough to deduct another third. 
Recollect also that twenty years will have gone 
from the earlier end of your life, (viz. about seven 
thousand days) before you can have attained any 
skill or system, or any definite purpose in the 
distribution of your time. Lastly, for that single 
item which amongst the Roman armies was 
indicated by the technical phrase, ' Corpus curare} 
tendance on the animal necessities, viz., eating, 
drinking, washing, bathing and exercise, deduct 
the smallest allowance consistent with propriety, 



'* 



86 A EOS ART FOR LENT. 

and upon summing up all these appropriations, 
you will not find so much as four thousand days 
left disposable for direct intellectual culture. 
Four thousand, or forty hundreds, will be a hun- 
dred forties ; that is, according to the lax Hebrew 
method of indicating six weeks by the phrase 
of forty days, you will have a hundred bills or 
drafts on Father Time, value six weeks each, as 
the whole period available for intellectual labor. 
A solid block of about eleven and a half con- 
tinuous years is all that a long life will furnish 
for the development of what is most august in 
man's nature. After that the night comes when 
no man can work ; brain and arm will be alike 
unserviceable ; or, if the life should be unusually 
extended, the vital powers will be drooping as 
regards all motions in advance. 

De Quincey. 



^t wise, cut off long cares, 
From thy contracted span ; 
E'en whilst we speak, the envious time, 

Doth make swift haste away ; 
Then seize the present, use thy prime, 

Nor trust another day. 

Creech. 



"h 



A EOS ART FOB LENT. 87 

*W ft&t is a man, 

If his chief good, and market of his time 

Be but to sleep and feed ? — a beast, no more ! 

Sure He that made us with such large discourse, 

Looking before and after, gave us not 

That capability and God-like reason 

To rust in us unused ! 



/ 



88 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



*. 



Second ©uesbag. 



Jmscjibhtg. 



(IlJWt$t before thy door is waiting : 
Rouse thee, slave of earthly gold, 

Lo, He comes, thy pomp abating, 
Hungry, thirsty, homeless, cold : — 
Hungry, by whom saints are fed 
With the Eternal Living Bread ; 
Thirsty, from whose pierced side 
Healing waters spring and glide ; 

Cold and bare He comes, who never 
May put off his robe of light ; 

Homeless, who must dwell for ever 
In the Father's bosom bright. 

In kind ambush always lying, 
He besets thy bed and path ; 

Fain would see thee hourly buying 
Prayers against the time of wrath, 



* 



. A ROSARY FOR LENT. 89 

Prayers of thankful mourners here, 

Prayers that in Love's might appear 

With the offerings of the Blest 

At the shrine of perfect rest. 
See, His undecaying treasure 

Lies like dew upon the grass, 
To be won and stored at pleasure ; — 

But its hour will quickly pass. 



Christ before His altar standing, 

Priest of Priests, in His own Day, 
Calls on thee, some fruit demanding 

Of the week's heaven-guarded way. 

See His arm stretch'd out to bless ; 

Whoso nearest to Him press, 

Open-handed, eagle-eyed, 

They may best that arm abide 
When, the last dread lightnings wielding, 

He shall lift it, and decree : 
" Go, ye churls of soul unyielding, 

Where nor gift nor prayer shall be." 



Bring thine all, thy choicest treasure, 
Heap it high and hide it deep ; 

Thou shalt win o'erflowing measure, 
Thou shalt climb where skies are steep. 
For as Heaven's true only light 
Quickens all those forms so bright, 
So where bounty never faints, 
There the Lord is with His saints, 
Mercy's sweet contagion spreading 
Far and wide from heart to heart, 



* 



90 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

From his wounds atonement shedding 
On the blessed widow's part. 



Keble. 



HATSOEVER thou givest beside 
thyself, is of no value in My sight, 
for I seek not thy gifts, but thee. 
As it would not suffice thee to 
have all things whatsoever beside 

Me, so neither can it please Me, whatsoever 

thou givest, if thou offer not thyself. 

Imitation of Christ. 




|ft is a happiness to be born and framed into vir- 
tue, and to grow up from the seeds of nature, 
rather than the inoculation and forced grass of 
education : yet if we are directed only by our par- 
ticular natures, and regulate our inclinations by 
no higher rule than that of our reasons, we are 
but moralists ; divinity will still call us hea- 
thens. Therefore this great work of charity must 
have other motives, ends, and impulsions. I 
give no alms to satisfy the hunger of my bro- 
ther, but to fulfil and accomplish the will and 
command of my God ; I draw not my purse for 
his sake that demands it, but His that enjoined 
it ; I relieve no man upon the rhetoric of his 
miseries, nor to content mine own commiserating 



*, 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 9 1 

disposition ; for this is still but moral charity, 
and an act that oweth more to passion than 
reason. He that relieves another upon the bare 
suggestion and bowels of pity, doth not this so 
much for his sake as for his own ; for by com- 
passion we make others' misery our own, and so 
by relieving them, we relieve ourselves also. 
It is as erroneous a conceit to redress other 
men's misfortunes upon the common consider- 
ations of merciful natures, that it may be one 
day our own case ; for this is a sinister and 
polite kind of charity, whereby we seem to 
bespeak the pities of men in the like occasions. 

Sir Thomas Browne. 



" fjttftolfl, Lord, the half of my goods I give to 
the poor ; and if I have done any wrong to any 
man, I restore fourfold." One particular and 
eminent fruit of true repentance is the making 
satisfaction and restitution to those whom we 
have injured. To God, indeed, we can never 
make compensation for the injuries we have 
done to Him by our sins ; all that we can do, 
is, to confess our sins to Him, to make acknow- 
ledgement of our miscarriages, to be heartily 
troubled for what we have done, and not to do 
the like again. But for injuries done to men 



92 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

we may, in many cases, make reparation and 
satisfaction. And this, as it is one of the best 
signs, and proofs of a true repentance, so is it 
one of the most proper and genuine effects of 
it ; for this is, as much as in us lies, to undo 
what we have done and to unsin our sins. 

Archbishop Tillotson. 



* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Styitf* iOtfme0&ag* 



— + 



gJnrcgttttttg. 



J2i|£#Mtt rains on every heart, 
But there its showers divide, 
The drops of mercy choosing as they part, 
The dark or glowing side. 

One kindly deed may turn 
The fountain of thy soul 
To love's sweet day-star, that shall o'er thee burn 
Long as its currents roll ! 

The pleasures thou hast planned, 
Where shall their memory be, 
When the white angel with the freezing hand, 
Shall sit and watch by thee ? 

Living, thou dost not live, 
If mercy's spring run dry ; 
What Heaven has lent thee wilt thou freely give, 
Dying, thou shalt not die ! 



*' 




94 A BOS ART FOE LENT. 

He promised even so ! 
To thee His lips repeat — 
Behold, the tears that soothed thy sister's woe 
Have washed thy Master's feet. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

IVE, looking for nothing again ; that 
is, without consideration of future 
advantages ; give to children, to 
old men, to the unthankful, and 
the dying, and to those whom you 
shall never see again ; for else your alms or 
courtesy is not charity but traffic and merchan- 
dize ; and be sure that you omit not to relieve 
the needs of your enemy and the injurious ; for 
so, possibly, you may win time to yourself ; but 
do you intend the winning him to God. Trust 
not your alms to intermedial, uncertain, and un- 
der-dispensers ; by which rule is not only in- 
tended the securing your alms in the right chan- 
nel ; but the humility of your person, and that 
which the apostle calls " the labor of love." And 
if you converse in hospitals and almshouses, and 
minister with your own hand, what your heart 
hath first decreed, you will find your heart en- 
deared and made familiar with the needs and 
with the persons of the poor, those excellent 
images of Christ. 

If thou hast no money, yet thou must have 
mercy, and art bound to pity the poor, and pray 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 9$ 

for them, and throw thy holy desires and devotions 
into the treasury ; and if thou dost what thou art 
able, be it little or great, corporal or spiritual, the 
charity of alms or the charity of prayers, a cup 
of wine or a cup of water, if it be but love to 
the brethren, or a desire for all or any of Christ's 
poor, it shall be accepted according to that a man 
hath, not according to that he hath not. For 
love is all this and all the other commandments ; 
and it will express itself where it can, and where 
it cannot yet it is love still, and it is also sorrow, 
that it cannot. 

Bishop Taylor. 



d'tfiU is no true alms which the hand can hold ; 
He gives nothing but worthless gold 

Who gives from a sense of duty : 
But he who gives a slender mite, 
And gives to that which is out of sight, 

That thread of the all-sustaining Beauty 
Which runs through all and doth all unite, — 
The hand cannot clasp the whole of his alms, 
The heart outstretches its eager palms, 
For a god goes with it and makes it store 
To the soul that was starving in darkness before. 



*s 



The Holy Supper is kept indeed, 

In whatso we share with another's need, — 

Not that which we give, but what we share, — 

For the gift without the giver is bare ; 

Who bestows himself with his alms feeds three, 

Himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me. 

James Russell Lowell. 



9 6 



A EOS ART FOR LENT. 



3tyitf> ©fjursbag- 



Witm'mm in SStorsjjip. 



<5*ttt Faith is cold, and wilful men are strong, 
And the blithe world, with bells and harness proud, 
Ride tinkling by, so musical and loud, 

It drowns the Eternal Word, the Angelic Song : 
And one by one the weary listless throng 
Steals out of church, and leaves the choir unseen 
Of winged guards to weep, where prayer had been, 

That souls immortal find that hour too long. 
Most fatal token of a falling age ! 
Wit ever busy, learning ever new, 
Unsleeping Fancy, Eloquence untired ; — 
Prayer only dull ! The Saints' and Martyrs' page 




A ROSARY FOB LENT. 97 

A tedious scroll ; the scorned and faithful few 
Left to bewail such beauty undesired. 

Lyra Apostolica. 

AKE good care not to give way to 
any sort of mistrust ; for that 
heavenly goodness does not allow 
you to fall in this way in order to 
abandon you, but to humiliate you, 
and to make you cling the more firmly to the 
hand of His mercy. 

You do exactly as I think you ought, in con- 
tinuing your exercises in the midst of the dry- 
ness and interior languors which have returned 
to you ; for, since we will not serve God except 
for the love of Him, and since the service which 
we render Him in the midst of the affliction of 
dryness is more pleasing to Him than that which 
we perform in the midst of sweetness, we ought 
also on our side to acquiesce in it more, at least 
with our higher will ; and, although, according 
to our taste and self-love, sweetnesses are more 
pleasant to us, nevertheless drynesses remain 
according to God's taste and to His love, and 
are more profitable, as dry food is better for 
the dropsical than watery food, although they 
always are fondest of the latter. Your fits of 
coldness ought in no wise to astonish you, pro- 
vided that you have a real desire of warmth, and 

5 



mm 



98 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

that you do not cease on account of cold from 
continuing your exercises. Alas ! tell me, was 
not the sweet Jesus born in the heart of cold ? 
and wherefore shall He not also remain in the 
cold of the heart ? I understand this cold of 
which, as I think, you speak to me, which does 
not consist in any relaxation of our good reso- 
lutions, but simply in a certain lassitude and 
heaviness of spirit, which makes us walk with 
difficulty in the path in which we have placed 
ourselves, and from which we are resolved never 
to stray until we are safe in port. 

However, live entirely unto God ; and for the 
love which He has borne towards you, support 
yourself in all your miseries. To be a good 
servant of God is not to be always in consola- 
tion, always in sweetness, always without aver- 
sion or repugnance to good ; for, at this rate, 
neither St. Paula, nor St. Angela, nor St. Cathe- 
rine of Sienna, served God well. To be a servant 
of God is to be charitable towards your neighbor ; 
to have in the highest part of your soul an invio- 
lable resolution to follow the will of God ; to have 
a most humble humility and simplicity to trust 
yourself with God, and to rise again as often as 
you fall ; to bear with yourself in your abjec- 
tions, and tranquilly to endure the imperfections 
of others. 



St. Francis de Sales. 



^■smi 



■tw i r • (YiM mmimmmmmMUm 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



99 



^iU#$$ tl Jesu, Thou, on Heaven intent, 
Whole nights hast in devotion spent ; 
But I, frail creature, soon am tired, 
And all my zeal is soon expired. 

My soul, how can'st thou weary grow 
Of antedating bliss below, 
In sacred hymns and heavenly love, 
Which will eternal be above ? 

Shine on me, Lord, new life impart ! 
Fresh ardors kindle in my heart ! 
One ray of Thy all-quickening light 
Dispels the sloth and clouds of night. 

Lord, lest the tempter me surprise, 
Watch over Thine own sacrifice ! 
All loose, all idle thoughts cast out, 
And make my very dreams devout. 

Praise God from whom all blessings flow ; 
Praise Him all creatures here below ; 
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host ; 
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! 

Bishop Ken. 

OW, O man, cease for a little from 
thy work, withdraw thyself for a 
while from thy stormy thoughts, 
forget thy weary and burdensome 
struggling, give thyself for a time 
to God, and rest calmly in Him. Leave all 
around thee where God is not, and where thou 




IOO A BOS ART FOR LENT. 

wilt find no help from Him ; go into the inner 
chamber of thine heart, and shut the door 
behind thee. Say then with thy whole heart, 
"I seek Thy face, O Lord ; teach Thou me 
where and how I should seek Thee, and where 
and how I shall find Thee." 

A nselm. 



|Jf God hath given to mortals nothing without 
toil (as the poet saith), if, according to the 
Apostle, no man " is crowned, except he strive 
lawfully ; " then must thou also weary thyself, 
wilt thou gaze upon the glory of God. How 
long wilt thou be satisfied with poverty in this 
vale of tears, with the dirt and dross of earth ? 
Arise hastily, run in thy course as the swift, 
climb vigorously the mountain of the Lord. 
How long shall thy soul be benumbed with frost 
and cold ? How long deprived of the flame of 
devotion ? Cease not to read, to meditate, to 
pray ; ply well the bellows till a spark of devo- 
tion arise. Verily, in the beginning, the black 
smoke and clouds of temptation threaten to 
suffocate it, thine eyes smart, thy brow wrinkles ; 
yet fear not, only continue to blow ; soon the 
flame shall break forth bright and clear, and at 
last God will grant thee pure, untroubled light, 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. IOI 

free from smoke as a glowing coal. If the Lord 
lend thee grace, if thou be raised to such an 
elevation, seek to protect the flame of devo- 
tion under the ashes of humility ; no less from 
the whirlwind of pride than from the snows of 
indolent carelessness. Woe be to them who 
trifle away the day of grace ! 

Gersou. 



JlMVtt, slothful heart ! how darest thou say, 

" Call not so oft to pray ? " 

Behold the Lord's own bounteous showers 

Keep their appointed hours. 

The forenoon saw the Spirit first, 

On orphan'd saints in glory burst ; 

At noontide hour, Saint Peter saw 

The sheet let down, heavenward all earth to draw ; 

At eventide, when good Cornelius kneeled 

Upon his fasting-day, an angel shone revealed. 

Untired is He in mercy's task, 

Then tire not thou to ask. 

He says not, " Yesterday I gave ; 

Wilt thou for ever crave ? " 

He every moment waits to give, 

Watch thou unwearied to receive. 

Thine hours of prayer, upon the cross 

To him were hours of woe and shame and loss ; 

Scourging at morn ; at noon, pierced hands and feet ; 

At eve, fierce pains of death for thee He counted sweet. 



102 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

The blue sky o'er the green earth bends, 

All night the dew descends ; 

The green earth to the blue heaven's ray, 

Its bosom spreads all day ; 

Earth answers heaven — the holy race 

Should answer his unfailing grace. 

Then smile, low world, in spite or scorn, 

We to our God will kneel, ere prime of morn ; 

The third, the sixth, the ninth — each passion hour — 

We with high praise will keep, as He with gifts of power. 

Lyra Innocentium. 



bobs 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. IO3 



®t)ir5 jfribag- 



fob* to <%ist 



4li IttlXK well how Jesus trusts Himself 

Unto our childish love, 
As though by His free ways with us 

Our earnestness to prove. 

God gives Himself as Mary's Babe 
To sinners' trembling arms, 

And veils His everlasting light 
In childhood's feeble charms. 

His sacred name a common word 
On earth He loves to hear ; 

There is no majesty in Him 
Which love may not come near. 

The light of love is round His feet, 

His paths are never dim ; 
And He comes nigh to us when we 

Dare not come nigh to Him. 



I 



104 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Let us be simple with Him then, 
Not backward, stiff, and cold, 

As though our Bethlehem could be 
What Sina was of old. 



His love of us may teach us how 

To love Him in return ; 
Love cannot help but grow more free 

The more its transports burn. 



Faber. 




:HE great effect of the Incarnation 
was to render human love for the 
Most High a possible thing. 

The character of the Blessed 
Founder of our faith became an 
abstract of morality to determine the judgment, 
while at the same time it remained personal and 
liable to love. The written word and established 
church prevented a degeneration into ungoverned 
mysticism ; but the predominant principle of 
vital religion always remained that of self-sa- 
crifice to the Saviour. Not only the higher 
divisions of moral duties, but the simple pri- 
mary impulses of benevolence, were subordinated 
to this new absorbing passion. The world was 
loved "in Christ alone." The brethren were 
members of his mystical body. All the other 
bonds that had fastened down the spirit of the 
universe to our narrow round of earth were as 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 105 

nothing in comparison to this golden chain of 
suffering and self-sacrifice which at once riveted 
the heart of man to one who, like himself, was 
acquainted with grief. Pain is the deepest thing 
we have in our nature ; and union through pain 
has always seemed more real and more holy 
than any other. 

A rthur Henry Hallam. 



(£>0tt has commanded us to be perfect in love ; 
not because He was unaware that such a com- 
mand far exceeded our abilities, but because He 
desired thereby to remind us of our weakness, 
and to keep before us the prize of righteousness 
after which we must strive. In thus demanding 
from man impossibility, it is not with the view 
of hurling him into sin, but of compelling him 
to humility, that " every mouth may be stopped," 
and all creation subject unto Christ — for 
"through the works of the law shall no flesh 
be justified." When, therefore, we hear this 
command, and are sensible of our inability to 
fulfil its requirements, our only course is to cry 
unto heaven ; then will our gracious Father 
look down in His mercy and supply the needed 
strength. 



Bernard. 



+' 



— * 



106 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

^fy\% courtiers of the Caliph crave — 
" Oh, say how this may be, 

That of thy slaves this Ethiop slave 
Is best beloved by thee. 

" For he is hideous as the night, 
Yet when has ever chose 
A nightingale for its delight 
A hueless, scentless rose ! " 

The Caliph then — " No features fair 
Nor comely mien are his ; 

Love is the beauty he doth wear, 
And love his glory is. 

" Once when a camel of my train 
There fell in narrow street, 
From broken casket rolled amain 
Rich pearls before my feet. 

' I nodding to my slaves that I 
Would freely give them these, 
At once upon the spoil they flyy 
The costly boon to seize. 

" One only at my side remained, 
Beside this Ethiop, none ; 
He, moveless as the steed he reined, 
Beside me sat alone. 

" What will thy gain, good fellow, be, 
Thus lingering at my side ? 
' My king, that I shall faithfully 
Have guarded thee,' he cried. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 107 

" True servants' title he may wear, 
He only, who has not 
For his lord's gifts, how rich soe'er, 
His lord himself forgot." 

So thou alone dost walk before 

Thy God with perfect aim, 
From Him desiring nothing more 

Beside Himself to claim. 

For if thou not to Him aspire, 

But to His gifts alone, 
Not love, but covetous desire, 

Has brought thee to His throne. 

While such thy prayer, it climbs above 

In vain — the golden key 
Of God's rich treasure-house of love, 

Thine own will never be. 

Trench. 



* 



io8 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Styirtr Saturbag- 



linns. 



^tt a service which Thy will appoints 

There are no bounds for me ; 
For my inmost heart is taught the Truth 

That makes thy children free ; 
And a life of self-renouncing love, 

Is a life of liberty. 

A . L. Waring. 

REGRET having regulated my life 
upon my own plans, my plans of 
fidelity and Christian sanclification, 
and not simply upon the plan which 
the Saviour unfolds before every 
I believe I shall be able to explain 
myself in a few words, and that every child of 
God will understand me. 




one of us. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. IO9 

We are prone to make to ourselves a certain 
ideal of the Christian life, of Christian activity, 
and of the Christian ministry, and to attach to 
this ideal certain plans and certain methods, in 
such a way that we are not contented if we do 
not attain to the realization of them ; and thus 
it behooves us to make the best possible plans, 
and to seek for the best possible method of car- 
rying them out. All this is well ; but beneath 
it all there is a fault ; it is the me, the hidden 
me, which is rooted at the bottom of the heart, 
and which is seen in all our best and purest 
works. Whereas that which I would do, would 
be to take the plan of my life and of my daily 
conduct, not from my own ideas and sentiments, 
but from the commandments of God, in His in- 
ward witness, in the conduct of His Spirit, and 
in the external directions which He gives to our 
lives. 

You will understand entirely my meaning in 
regard to the way in which I would regulate my 
life, if you will consider the manner in which our 
Saviour guided His. We do not find in the life 
of Jesus those plans and methods which have so 
much occupied many good men, and often have 
tormented them so much, and taken up time that 
might have been better spent. But what do we 
find ? We find a man (I am looking at Him 



IIO A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

now as the Son of Man), who proposes to Him- 
self nothing but to accomplish the mission of 
His Father, and who has no other plan than to 
enter into the plan of His Father, so that His 
eyes fixed upon Him, He is only occupied in 
listening to His voice to follow Him, and in dis- 
cerning His will to execute it. The good works 
of Jesus Christ are all given to Him one after 
the other, placed before Him on His road by the 
hand of God, and follow each other so easily, 
spring so naturally one from the other, that they 
are never confused and entangled, even in the 
busiest days of His ministry. In one day — for 
example, such an one as we have described to 
us in the ninth chapter of St. Matthew, where 
He calls to the ministry one of His apostles, 
heals the sick, revives the dead, and on His way 
delivers a woman from the malady of years, with- 
out counting the other benefits which He diffuses 
on all sides in His route — there is not an in- 
stance of embarrassment or hesitation, neither in 
the manner of doing His works, neither in the 
time given to each one of them, because Jesus 
Christ follows simply the plan of God, and God 
assumes the direction of Him. When there is 
this perfect accord with the will of God, there is, 
on God's part, a perfect light to conduct us. 
Thus is realized a beautiful and deep thought 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. Ill 

of the Holy Spirit : " We are created in Christ 
Jesus for good works, that God has prepared 
beforehand for us to walk in." Where the good 
works are presented to us, not by a road that we 
have to make for ourselves, but by one which 
God has made for us, and in which we have 
nothing to do but to walk. It is the highway of 
God, it is not our own. We have nothing to do 
but to follow this road, and we are constantly 
doing the will of God. 

If I have been able to make you understand, 
in these few words, what it is I would have you 
do, and what I should do myself if life were 
spared to me, it will be easy to show you what 
advantages this conformity to the Divine will 
offers, above the carrying out of any personal 
plans whatever. It is not, however, my intention 
to discourage such plans — plans that we should 
make as perfect as possible. I believe that the 
infirmity of our nature is the better for this sup- 
port, provided alway that our personal plans are 
in continual subjection to the one thought of fol- 
lowing only the will of God. 

And now, to pause on two or three prin- 
cipal thoughts of the theme : this path of which 
Christ gives us the example, is first of all a con- 
dition of holiness. What is sin, taken in its in- 
most essence ? It is the pursuit of self, the con- 



112 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

fidence in self, one's own will, one's own judg- 
ment, one's own glory, and all that pertains to 
one's self personally. Thus the desire to do 
well, and to do even the will of God, if built on 
plans and projects formed in ourselves, has in- 
evitably a root of sin somewhere in it ; while, 
on the contrary, the essence of holiness being 
the union of our will to the Divine will, it is 
when we have no plan but the plan of God, and 
no will but the will of God, that we are in a state 
of true holiness — a holiness that will not only 
have an outward beauty, but an inward strength, 
" Holy even as He is holy." The holiness of 
Christ follows and depends upon the principle 
that I have just laid down — constant abandon- 
ment to the will of God, manifested within by 
the testimony of His Spirit, without, by the 
declarations of His word and by the signs of 
His Providence. Christ is holy because He only 
wills what God wills, because He seeks not His 
own glory, but His that sent Him ; there lay the 
power of His holiness. This conformity to the 
Divine plan is then a condition of true holi- 
ness. 

It is at the same time a condition of activity. 
One loses a vast amount of time when one seeks 
one's own way, even for good. How easily we 
deceive ourselves, and give ourselves up to 



'* 



A EOS ART FOR LENT. II3 

reflexions and considerations infinite. And how 
many men have acknowledged, at the end of 
their career, that no inconsiderable portion of 
their lives has been employed in forming plans, 
that might have been better spent in the work 
of the passing moment, and for the interest of 
others. Let us see what activity the plan of 
Christ exhibits, from which I have just quoted. 
In the ninth chapter of St. Matthew and else- 
where, good works are scattered with a bountiful 
hand, good works upon good works ; there is no 
limit to the activity founded upon this complete 
accord with the Divine will ; the action of the 
man becomes then a Divine action, and the life 
becomes a Divine life in the bosom of that 
humanity which then accomplishes something, 
as by the power of God. We can have no idea 
what we should be able to do if we were com- 
pletely lost in this accord with God ; if we sought 
no will but His, if not a word of our mouths, 
not a beat of our hearts, not a thought of our 
minds, not a movement of our souls or bodies, 
but were turned to Him, obediently, in the spirit 
of Samuel : 

" Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth." 
There are men who have shown what man 
can do ; a Luther, a Calvin, a St. Paul, a Moses ; 
these men have shown what a man can do when 



114 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

he only seeks the will of God. Jesus Christ has 
done much more, because in Him alone the con- 
formity of His will with the Divine was perfect. 
It is then a condition of activity, and an activ- 
ity almost without limit ; though there is a limit, 
because God does not ask of His creatures more 
than they are able to perform. 

Finally, it is a condition of peace. There is 
no peace for the man who takes himself for his 
starting-point. There is always room to fear 
that he is deceiving himself; he is troubled, and 
often in error, because the human will and human 
interests are subject to many errors ; he has no 
rest, he excites himself, he torments himself, and 
inspires with deep compassion those who, seeing 
the strong desire that he has to glorify God, see 
at the same time the accumulation of obstacles 
that he places in his path by his want of sim- 
plicity ; while, on the other hand, when we look 
to God alone, we cast all our burden upon Him, 
and He sustains us. 

And more. If my projects emanate from my- 
self, they may be impracticable. Perhaps I would 
follow some career of which I can not bear 
the expense ; or I would be a painter, and my 
sight fails me ; a surgeon, but my hand lacks 
steadiness ; then is my career spoiled, and I am 
inconsolable. But there is no possibility of a 



■* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 15 

spoiled career, if my projects are made according 
to God's plan for me. For then this very 
impossibility that I find in doing what I had 
at first proposed, proves to me that it is not that 
to which God calls me, and the infirmities even 
that stop me are so many lights by which God 
reveals my true work to me. If we act in this 
spirit (I say it with reverence), our work is more 
God's affair than ours, His work and not our 
work ; and the activity, the personal exertion 
which He always demands of us, consists only in 
a faithful and unquestioning obedience. In that 
we shall find deep peace ; God cannot mislead 
us. 

Often we are agitated by the thought that we 
are not doing enough, or that we are not doing 
the work that God has given us to do. I re- 
member particularly how much, during the first 
weeks that followed the final decision of my 
physicians, I was troubled by the thought that 
my work was not done. By the grace of God I 
have been delivered from such thoughts ; I have 
learned that it is not a question of my work, but 
of God's ; and I am thankful that by the very 
sufferings and afflictions that He has sent me, 
and by the hope of eternal life to follow them, 
the Good Lord has brought me to the exercise 
of another ministry, probably more important 



* 






Il6 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

than the one which I proposed to myself, and 
at all events more sure, because coming to me 
more directly from the hand of God, which con- 
strains me mercifully to walk in this path for 
His service and glory. 

It is then that we can say with the dying 
Christ : " I have finished the work that Thou 
hast given me to do." How was He enabled 
to say that ? Because He only sought to do 
the work of God, and God took Him away as 
one gathers the ripe fruit, when His mission 
was accomplished. And for ourselves, also, let 
us only seek to do the work that the Father has 
given us to do, and to put ourselves entirely 
in His hands. And we also, if we are faithful, 
shall not be taken away till our work is done. 
To God alone it belongs to decide when the 
work which He has given us to do is finished. 
It may be very imperfect, very incomplete to the 
eyes of men ; but still the Saviour will not 
permit, if we have been true to Him, that our 
lives pass without leaving a trace upon the 
earth ; He will not take us away till our work 
is completed in His sight, and till we can say 
before our Lord, in a spirit of humility : 

" I have finished the work Thou hast given me 
to do." 

There is great peace in seeking one's plan 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. WJ 

only from God, and in following it to the renun- 
ciation of one's own ; and there is no peace 
elsewhere. 

Thus, let us study to seek our plans nowhere 
but from God, both those who are humbled and 
recalled, and those who live to grow in grace. 
Let us study in this spirit to follow Christ in 
His Gethsemane, and to keep our eyes fixed 
constantly upon the will of the Father. It will 
be for us, as it was for Christ, a condition of 
holiness, a condition of activity, and a condi- 
tion of perfect peace. It is this peace which 
I would ask for you. And I should be very 
happy if I might hope that these few words 
would incite those who have still before them 
time, life, strength, to use them so faithfully 
and so simply, to glorify God after the ex- 
ample of the Saviour, that they may say in 
their turn : " I have finished the work which 
Thou gavest me to do ;" and that they may pass 
the time of their earthly life in peace, waiting 
till they shall be called from this world to the 
Father, by the grace of the Saviour, by the 
power and virtue of the Holy Spirit ! 

A. Monod. 



Il8 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



STtjirb Sunban, 



goubts. 



QitiXVt me not now, while still the shade is creeping 

O'er the sad heart that longs to rest in Thee ; 
Hear my complaint, and while my soul is weeping, 
Breathe Thou the holy dew of sympathy. 

Leave me not now, Thou Saviour of compassion, 
While yet the busy tempter lurketh near ; 

Lord, by Thine anguish and Thy wond'rous passion, 
Do I entreat Thee now to linger here. 

Jesus, Thou soul of love, Thou heart of feeling, 

Let me repose the weary night away 
Safe on Thy bosom, all my woes revealing, 

Secure from danger, till the dawn of day. 

Then leave me not, O Comforter and Father. 
Parent of love ! I live but in Thy sight ; 






MMMiMHMMi^MMMMiillMiMHMWMB^ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



II 9 




Good Shepherd, to Thy fold the wand'rer gather, 
There to adore Thee, morning, noon, and night. 

|OU ask me for remedies against the 
temptations against the faith which 
are troubling you. You must deal 
with these temptations exactly as 
you would with those against purity. 
Dispute with them neither much nor little, but 
do as the children of Israel did with the bones 
of the paschal lamb, which they never attempted 
to break, but cast them into the fire. You must 
never answer nor seem to understand what the 
enemy says. Let him make as much noise as 
he pleases at the gate ; never once say, Who 
goes there ? 

Very true, you will say to me, but he impor- 
tunes me, and his noise is so loud that those 
within cannot hear each other speak. Never 
mind ; patience ; they must speak by signs ; you 
must prostrate yourself before God, and remain 
there at His feet ; He will understand by this 
humble guise that you are on His side, and that 
you wish for His help, though you cannot speak. 
But, above all, keep yourself fast within ; and on 
no account open the door, either to see who 
knocks, or to drive away the troublesome appli- 
cant. He will at length weary of his noise, and 
leave you in peace. 



mmm 



— .4. 



120 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Courage, then ; provided he does not enter 
in, it matters nothing. It is, however, a very 



good sign that the enemy keeps knocking and 
storming at the gate ; for it shows that he has 
not what he wants. If he had, he would not 
make any more noise, but enter in, and quietly 
remain there. 

St. Francis de Sales. 



And shall I sit alone, 

Oppressed with grief and fear, 
To God my Father make my moan, 

And he refuse to hear ? 

If He my Father be, 

His pity he will show, 
From cruel bondage set me free, 

And inward peace bestow. 

If still He silence keep, 

'Tis but my faith to try ; 
He knows and feels, whene'er I weep, 

And softens every sigh. 

Then will I humbly wait, 

Nor once indulge despair, 
My sins are great, but not so great 

As His compassions are. 

Benjamin Beddomc. 



mmmmmmmmmmmm 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 121 

Witt us try to understand the doubt of Thomas. 
There are some men whose affections are stronger 
than their understandings ; they feel more than 
they think. They are simple, trustful, able to 
repose implicitly on what is told them, — liable 
sometimes to verge upon credulity and super- 
stition, but, take them all in all, perhaps the 
happiest class of minds ; for it is happy to be 
without misgivings about the love of God and 
our own eternal rest in Him. " Blessed," said 
Christ to Thomas, "are they that have believed." 
There is another class of men whose reflect- 
ive powers are stronger than their susceptible ; 
they think out truth — they do not feel it out. 
Often highly gifted and powerful minds, they 
cannot rest until they, have made all their 
ground certain ; they do not feel safe as long as 
there is one possibility of delusion left ; they 
prove all things. Such a man was Thomas. 
He has well been called the rationalist among 
the apostles. Happy such men cannot be. An 
anxious and inquiring mind dooms its possessor 
to unrest. But men of generous spirit, manly 
and affectionate, they may be ; Thomas was. 
When Christ was bent on going to Jerusalem, to 
certain death, Thomas said, " Let us go up, too, 
that we may die with Him." And men of mighty 
faith they may become, if they are true to them- 



122 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

selves and their convictions. Thomas did. 
When such men do believe, it is a belief with 
all the heart and soul for life. When a subject 
has been once thoroughly and suspiciously investi- 
gated, and settled once for all, the adherence of 
the whole reasoning man, if given in at all, is 
given frankly and heartily, as Thomas gave — 

" My Lord and my God." 

* * * * The honest doubt of Thomas 
craves a sign as much as the cold doubt of the 
Sadducee. And a sign shall be mercifully 
given to the doubt of love which is refused to 
the doubt of indifference. 

Robertson. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. [23 



%\)\xii Jtfonbcty. 



W%z Crials of JUness— §c£ponbcntg« 



<w JUJ art thou sorrowful, servant of God ? 

And what is this dulness that hangs o'er thee now ? 
Sing the praises of Jesus, and sing them aloud, 

And the song shall dispel the dark cloud from thy brow. 

For is there a thought in the wide world so sweet, 
As that God has so cared for us, bad as we are ; 

That He thinks of us, plans for us, stoops to entreat, 
And follows us, wander we ever so far ? 

Then how can the heart e'er be drooping or sad, 

Which God hath once touched with the light of His 
grace ? 

Can the child have a doubt who but lately hath laid 
Himself to repose in his father's embrace ? 



124 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

And is it not wonderful, servant of God ! 

That He should have honored us so with His love ; 
That the sorrows of life should but shorten the road 

Which leads to Himself and the mansion above ? 

Oh, then, when the spirit of darkness comes down 
With clouds and uncertainties into thy heart, 

One look to thy Saviour, one thought of thy crown, 
And the tempest is o'er, the shadows depart. 

That God hath once whispered a word in thine ear, 
Or sent thee from heaven one sorrow for sin, 

Is enough for a life both to banish all fear, 
And to turn into peace all the troubles within. 

The schoolmen can teach thee far less about heaven, 
Of the height of God's power, of the depth of His love, 

Than the fire in thy heart when thy sin was forgiven, 
Or the light which one mercy brings down from above. 

Then why dost thou weep so ? for see how time flies, 
The time that for loving and praising was given ; 

Away with thee, child, and hide thy red eyes 
In the lap, the kind lap of thy Father in heaven. 

Faber. 

|HERE are times in every illness, 
except, perhaps, those too rapid 
for thought to have way ; there 
are times in every illness when a 
sudden and deep despondency falls 
upon the mind, and horror fills the soul. It is 




A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 25 

somewhat akin to the utter sinking of heart 
with which one sees the hour of an operation 
draw near. It is not the actual amount of pain 
that is dreaded ; it is the fear of anticipation, 
almost always greater than the pain to be in- 
flicted. We know it is so, we tell ourselves so ; 
but it is the approach of the unknown that 
makes our lips blanch and our heart beat quickly. 
Something like it, though less in degree, is the 
panic sometimes felt before some important 
interview with a stranger or an influential per- 
son, or an examination of our case by a phy- 
sician. We know that the moment is to a 
certain degree important, and we cannot tell 
what may be the result, or feel sure of ourselves. 
Whenever we can trace beforehand exactly what 
we shall have to do, and know we are equal to 
the emergency, there is no failing of the heart 
through fear. But who can say this of himself 
when his frame is exhausted by illness, his 
nerves unstrung, his limbs powerless ? The 
merest trifle to which he has then to look for- 
ward, assumes an appalling magnitude, and our 
strength to sustain our part on any occasion 
appears to be less than nothing. How can we 
then look forward to a long and trying illness, to 
the sorrow of surrounding friends, to the pain 
and terrors of death, with tolerable serenity ? 



mm 



*. 



126 .-1 ROSARY FOR LENT. 

How can we, when looking back on our past 
lives, more especially, lift up our eyes to the 
hope of acceptance with God ? We know indeed 
that He is all-merciful, but have we not been all- 
guilty ? Have we not sinned against mercies 
and warnings ? Have we not had so much lov- 
ing-kindness shown to us that we are doubly 
guilty, to be still so far, so cold, so indifferent ? 
We are speaking of those who really are and 
have long been aware of their privileges, as 
Christians, and who are striving to live up to 
them. And we appeal to many such if we have 
exaggerated the despondency — we might almost 
say the dismay — that occasionally overtakes 
them ; prayer seems unable to cheer or warm 
their hearts ; praise cannot lift up her voice ; 
confession is cold and lifeless ; and reading finds 
them repeating the well-known words by heart, 
their glazed eyes scarcely seeing the words, their 
brain and heart incapable of entering into them. 
It is not wonderful, that such being their condi- 
tion, they should feel death itself in their souls, 
and despair of ever knowing the calm, serene 
faith and patience they have so often heard de- 
scribed, that they almost expected them as part 
of their illness — despair even of their hold upon 
eternal life. Let them remember that we are 
"always to pray and not to faint." It is for their 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 127 

good that they are made to feel their utter need 
of God, even in the details of life, still more 
before the great and clouded and uncertain fu- 
ture lying dim before them. But that despond- 
ency is no proof of non-acceptance, nor assur- 
ance a proof of great sanctity, both divines and 
saints have informed us — nay, even the words of 
Christ Himself; for what said He of the publican ? 
Not that we would approve a desponding temper ; 
it shows a weak faith and too great self-contem- 
plation, but it does not by any means imply any- 
thing so terrible as insecurity ; it has been a trial 
and temptation to the saints of all ages, it was 
never to be a torment to the lost, except it induce 
the soul that once believed to make shipwreck of 
its faith. Indifference, false security, are symp- 
toms of a hardened heart. Despondency is one 
consequence of the light of life bursting in and 
showing us the dark and unholy things that 
cower in our hearts. While we look there, we 
fear, and justly ; but let us look up to the cross, 
and trusting firmly in Christ's willingness to 
save all who come to him, let us remember our 
broken vows, and repent before Him daily, con- 
fessing our sins, and by the aid of His Holy 
Spirit cleanse the hearts that should be meet 
temples for His dwelling-place. 

There is much in natural character, much in 



* 



128 A BOSABY FOB LENT. 

the nature of the disease, to account for despon- 
dency in certain invalids. And here we would 
more especially address those who are struggling 
with an adverse climate, striving to continue 
their exertions, though laboring against a cur- 
rent that saps their strength. This, be the 
climate warm or cold, often produces the most 
distressing despondency upon every subject ; 
first, doubts of oneself and of the adequacy and 
success of one's efforts ; then, doubts of those 
around one ; then, of the general success of one's 
affairs temporal ; and finally and most distress- 
ingly, the doubts and fears we have already 
described, as to our state before God and final 
acceptance with Him ; doubts to be carefully 
distinguished from the misgivings of an awa- 
kening and long-seared conscience. These latter 
will not be stilled by a nearer contemplation of 
the Divine Master — rather roused and quickened ; 
the former will be hushed and tranquillized, the 
latter must be allowed full way ; the former must 
be checked, lest our looking unto Christ become 
a morbid and despairing looking unto ourselves, 
killing to faith, and hope, and even charity. If, 
however, we cannot quiet our fears, let us con- 
sult our clergyman. If indeed we are blessed in 
our pastor, let us beseech him to visit us fre- 
quently in our sickness and sorrow, and teach, 



^■""•iTfiffiiffi^ im—i mill 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. n 1 29 

and exhort, and comfort, us ; but in order that 
his visits should be effectual, we must place con- 
fidence in him. A real pastor's visit is looked 
forward to by an invalid as a great blessing — 
greater yet when he administers to him the Holy 
Communion. Thus shall we find strength and 
courage for all that is to be laid upon us, support 
against desponding fears, fears of the death- 
agony, fears of falling from Christ, fears of final 
condemnation — all the fears of the Christian's 
heart there find rest and peace. " Come unto 
Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I 
will give you rest." 

But there are other fears more real and star- 
tling — the fears of the really negligent, indiffer- 
ent, or profane heart, that has loved everything 
less than self, yet more than God. To such the 
approach of illness is indeed terrible ; the first 
touch of real pain or danger sends a living barbed 
arrow into that foolish heart, thickly veils all its 
pictures of happiness, and breaks its beloved 
idols. Ambition was your idol ? Your future 
is a bed and a grave. Admiration ? You are 
already removed from the possibility of its ap- 
proaching you. Pleasure and ease ? You must 
suffer and know no rest. Fortune ? You cannot 
buy off fever nor purchase health. It would be 
some compensation if the sins that worshipped 

*6 



I30 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

these idols were destroyed also. But no — pride 
and vanity, sensuality and greed, die not with 
loss of natural food, but they prey upon the heart 
and spirit, and arm sickness with a thousand 
stings. 

You fear, you fear, poor sufferers ? God hath 
laid His hand upon you, and it grieveth you sore. 
Open your heart to Him ; tell Him, as you would 
tell an earthly friend, all that lies so heavily on 
your heart — your broken plans, your lost hopes, 
your preparations for this life unfinished, your 
preparations for another not yet begun. Fear 
not to tell Him all, for He will perfectly under- 
stand all. He sends you this illness to remind 
you of certain vows made for you long ago, of a 
sign signed upon you of love, that has followed 
you unseen all your days. He sends you these 
fears also. Fears to send you to your Saviour's 
Cross, there to confess your long, long career of 
careless life. Be warned in time — return to Him 
and He will return unto you. Own your sinful 
state, and be sure He will raise you from it. He 
shall still your passing fears, and make you see 
that with Him, if there is infinite justice, there is 
infinite mercy, too. Despair of yourself if you 
will, but do not despair of Him. He is all-per- 
fect in love as in judgment. He will yet teach 
you to desire His presence, not as the only pos- 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 131 

sible escape from punishment, but because He is 
your Lord, your Master, your Father, and your 
Friend. Amen. 

Lady Charlotte Maria Pe/ys. 



132 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Spirit ftuesftag. 



${je trials of Illness. — Jfairt. 



^JMtt $ furnace-heat within me quivers, 
God's breath upon the fire doth blow, 

And all my heart in anguish shivers, 
And trembles at the fiery glow ; 

And yet I whisper, " As God will ! " 

And in His hottest fire hold still 

He comes, and lays my heart, all heated, 
On the bare anvil, minded so 

Into His own fair shape to beat it 
With His great hammer, blow on blow 

And yet I whisper, "As God will ! " 

And at His heaviest blows hold still. 

He takes my softened heart and beats it, 
The sparks fly off at every blow ; 

He turns it o'er and o'er, and heats it, 
And lets it cool, and makes it glow ; 



*■ 



I 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 33 

And yet I whisper, " As God will ! " 
And in His mighty hand hold still. 

Why should I murmur ? for the sorrow 

Thus only longer-lived would be ; 
Its end may come, and will, to-morrow, 

When God has done His work in me ; 
So I say trusting, " As God will ! " 
And trusting to the end, hold still. 

He kindles for my profit purely 

Affliction's glowing, fiery brand ; 
And all His heaviest blows are surely 

Inflicted by a master-hand ; 
So I say, praying, " As God will ! " 
And hope in Him, and suffer still. 

AIN, the seal of man's inheritance 
of woe, claims every son of Adam 
from his birth till the grave close 
upon him. Pain is said to be one 
of the torments of the doomed ; it 
may, perhaps, be mental rather than physical ; 
but it is still pain. Pain exists not in heaven : 
" There shall be no more pain." Few complaints 
exist without pain ; it is the warning to the living 
body that decay is there, or, if not decay, injury 
and disease ; it warns us, ere it be too late, to 
apply a remedy ; or, if none be found, to prepare 
for our admission there where " shall be no more 




134 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

pain." Pain of the body, like pain of the mind, 
affects us differently. An excellent divine has 
said : " Our sensibilities to pain are very various. 
One thing hurts one person, a:d another another ; 
that which is agony to you, your neighbor 
scarcely feels. This is true of the roughnesses of 
life, of the calumnies of life, of the disappoint- 
ments of life." Only let us all be sure that we 
suffer, in whatever degree it be, with Christ. 

Pain confuses, dazzles the mental sight, or 
oppresses it with a dim weight of darkness. 
Pain, acute pain, seems to concentrate life into a 
moment. Can I live through such another 
pang ? is the question that occurs to one. It 
takes one's breath, it fixes eye and muscle ; it is 
like a giant iron hand, that grasps the weak part, 
and paralyses the whole. 

Pain, throbbing, unceasing, wringing pain, 
makes life a bed of thorns ; takes rest from the 
pillow, and taste out of food, and power out of 
every sense. A mass of pain — to such is the 
thinking, reasoning man reduced. 

Pain, racking pain, in nerve or joint seems to 
be dismembering us night and day ; we wonder 
what is going on in that broken bone, that 
injured nerve, to make it feel as if a red-hot screw 
were being continually worked in it. 

Pen and tongue fail before the mighty varieties 



mm 



+ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. I 35 

of pain. The pain of operations, of accidents, of 
gunshot wounds ; of childbirth, and of all the 
train of sufferings allied to it ; of inflammations ; 
of nerve, bone, skin and glandular diseases ; of 
gout, of rheumatic and neuralgic affections ; of 
complaints of the eye and ear, of cancer and 
tumor, of diseases of the vital organs ; diseases 
concealed from every eye. These all — oh, doubt 
it not ! — are all and each open to the eye and 
sympathy of Him with whom we have to do. 
Our Saviour while on earth, knew pain full well ; 
the pain even of thirst and hunger were known 
to Him, and surely He who could rebuke disease 
and revoke death itself, could enter into the 
sufferings He relieved. He did — and does so 
truly. When your pain is so great that you try 
to be alone that none may see it — when you can 
neither read, nor think, nor pray, He is ever 
ready to help you. By His mercy intense pain 
has intervals, or cannot last very long. In those 
intervals pray, call upon Him, for strength and 
patience. If you can only say, " Lord have 
mercy upon me," " Help me to bear this for Thy 
sake," " Make Thyself known to me," He will 
assuredly give you strength and comfort then, 
and for the next terrible fit of pain, if it must 
come. 

I know you cannot read these words or any 



*' 



136 A EOS ART FOB LENT. 

others, you whose heads are dizzy with exceeding 
pain (what a reason is here to think on these 
things before such pain be our portion !) ; your 
Lord knows it also. He accepts the thought 
when the a6l is impossible. 

Prayer is the burthen of a sigh, 

The falling of a tear, 
The upward glancing of an eye, 

When none but God is near. 

And for habitual pain, when devotion is not 
impossible, but must be very short, those divinely 
beautiful psalms may well afford us aid in all hours. 
There is, or was, an old " obedience," or sister- 
hood, part of whose rules it was to say whenever 

the clock struck : " At the hour, and at any 

hour, may the holy and blessed Trinity be 
adored. Amen." Some such practice justly aids 
the heavy-footed time of a sleepless, painful night 
or weary day. " Gloria in Excelsis Deo " would 
be a better way of noting the lapse of time, than 
the weary sigh and change of posture which is 
our usual comment upon the voice that tells us 
that another hour is gone. Sometimes with the 
words comes the sweet music belonging to them 
into our minds, and soothes us with its well 
remembered harmonies, better even than the 
voice of our attendant, reading. 



* 



A BOS ART FOR LENT. 1 37 

If we are alone, which is, if it be possible, far 
better, and our pain be of that recurring kind that 
remedies do not relieve, and that must run its 
course or " wear itself out," as the phrase is, it is 
well to command ourselves to lie quite still for a 
quarter of an hour, repeating, if we can, our 
Church Catechism, or the Evening Hymn, or 
some of Keble's musical verses ; or, if the memory 
be too weak for all these, the Lord's Prayer only, 
or this verse : " In the Lord put I my trust ; 
how say ye then to my soul, that she should flee 
as a bird unto the hill ? " 

If pain thus brings us nearer to our Lord, and 
make us feel it well to suffer and do His will, 
shall it find us angry or impatient ? Trying indeed 
it is, and apt to recur again, and again, when we 
had thought it subdued ; the remedy that once 
resisted it seems to be worn out ; trying it is ? 
and humiliating, for it makes us feel our utter 
weakness and proneness to faithlessness and dis- 
content. There are kinds of pain less disabling, 
but which, nevertheless, never leave us entirely, 
are sometimes- difficult to bear, and which are of 
so old a date that we do not like to mention 
them to others who have forgotten their very 
existence. Dreary is it to feel that we are only 
able to exert ourselves a little; that any over-work 
or over-enjoyment increases the pain to positive 






138 A EOSAEY FOR LENT. 

illness ; that to kneel in church, or walk for half 
an hour, or visit one or two sick persons, or 
change in any way our usual way of life, reduces 
us from the state of prisoners on parole, to that 
of manacled captives. Yet for this, too, the 
watchwords are Submission, Prayer, and Watch- 
fulness. This is, indeed, a state scarcely to be 
called invalidism, as compared to that of others, 
yet it demands the aid of the same Holy Spirit, 
is sent by the same Father, reminds us of the 
same Blessed Saviour. It is a cross, and has 
often to be borne, not as acute and violent suffer- 
ing, instead of other crosses, but with them. 
Patient acceptance will do much to make it bear- 
able, and steady attempts to occupy ourselves for 
others, will do much also. We shall have no 
difficulty in perceiving the uses of this and every 
other pain, when we feel how it presses down the 
pride and self-will, the love of ease and praise, 
and this life's ambitions, that surged so long and 
wildly, and still surge oftea in our hearts. May 
it please God to bless our pain to our sanclifica- 
tion, and to lead us in the path our Saviour trod, 
and " lead us in His track of love." 

Lady Charlotte Maria Pepys. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 39 



jFourtf) ttkbnee&ajh 



%\z Pinistig of gwjrls. 



J^VUm is there care in Heaven ? and is there love 

In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, 
That may compassion of their evils move ? 

There is — else much more wretched were the case 
Of men than beasts ; but, oh ! the exceeding grace 

Of highest God, that loves His creatures so, 
And all His works with mercy doth embrace, 

That blessed angels He sends to and fro, 
To serve to wicked man t to serve His wicked foe ! 

How oft do they their silver bowers leave, 
To come to succor us that succor want ! 

How oft do they with golden pinions cleave 
The flitting skies, like flying pursuivant, 
Against foul fiends to aid us militant ! 

They for us fight ; they watch and duly ward ; 
And their bright squadrons round about us plant ; 




140 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

And all for love, and nothing for reward ; 

Oh, why should heavenly God to men have such regard ! 

S/>enser, 

HOU hast commanded Thine angels, 
O Lord, to watch over my paths, 
lest I "dash my foot against a 
stone." They are the watchers 
who pace the walls of the New Jeru- 
salem, and stand around on the mountain tops ; 
they watch over thy flocks, lest the lion draw 
nigh and devour the souls of the faithful. They 
are the inhabitants of Jerusalem (our house 
above), " sent forth to minister for them who shall 
be heirs of salvation." They love us as their 
fellow-citizens ; keep watch over us at all times 
and in all places ; carry our hopes, our fears, our 
sighs, to the presence-chamber of our God. 
They wander with us in all our wanderings, go 
with us in and out, give careful heed that we live 
justly in the midst of a perverse generation, and 
" work out our own salvation with fear and trem- 
bling." They help us whil^e we labor, protect 
us when we rest, encourage us if we combat, 
crown us if we conquer, rejoice with us when 
we rejoice in Thee, suffer with us if for Thy sake 
we suffer. 

Soliloquia. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 141 

£|0Uf sweet it were, if, without feeble fright, 

Or dying of the dreadful, beauteous sight, 

An angel came to us, and we could bear 

To see him issue from the silent air 

At evening, in our room, and bend on ours 

His divine eyes ; and bring us from his bowers 

News of dear friends and children who have never 

Been dead indeed, as we shall know forever. 

Alas ! we think not that we daily see 

About our hearths, angels that are to be, 

Or may be, if they will, and we prepare 

Their souls and ours to meet in happy air, — 

A child, a friend, a wife, whose soft heart sings, 

In unison with ours, breeding its future wings. 

Leigh Hunt. 



4. 



142 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



jfourtf) Stjursbai). 



gibtrersiia. 



1w0 is me ! What is existence below ? 
Trouble on trouble, and blow upon blow ! 
What is in this world save sorrowful years, 
Much tribulation, and plentiful tears ? 

" As in the furnace the gold must be proved, 
So, by affliction, the son that is loved : 
For My true followers trouble is stored, 
Nor is the servant above his own Lord. 

" Hast thou forgotten the tale thou hast read ? 
I, when on earth, had no place for My head ; 
This was the Cross all My life long I bare, 
When the world's Maker, I banished Me there. 

" Wouldst thou but ponder the promise I make, 
Willingly, joyfully, pain thou wouldst take : 
That in My kingdom the joys thou mayst see 
Of the Confessors who suffered for Me." 



_* 



T* 1 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Grant Thou Thy patience, O Jesus, to me ! 
Grant Thou Thy graces, my safeguard to be : 
So that in all things Thy will may be mine, 
Bearing all troubles, because they are Thine. 

Still let me study like Thee to appear — 
Still let me seek to be crucified here : 
That if my anguish, like Thine, is increased, 
I may sit also with Thee at Thy feast. 



143 




ESUS hath now many lovers of His 
heavenly kingdom, but few bearers 
of His cross. 

He hath many desirous of com- 
fort, but few of tribulation. 
He findeth many companions of His table, but 
few of His abstinence. 

All desire to rejoice with Him ; few are willing 
to endure anything for Him, or with Him. 

Many follow Jesus unto the breaking of bread, 
but few to the drinking of the cup of His pas- 
sion. 

Many reverence His miracles, few follow the 
ignominy of His cross. 

Many love Jesus so long as adversities happen 
not. 

Many praise and bless Him so long as they 
receive any consolations from Him. 



*< 



144 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

But if Jesus hide himself, and leave them but 
a little while, they fall either into complaining, 
or into too much dejection of mind. 

But they who love Jesus for the sake of Jesus, 
and not for some special comfort of their own, 
bless Him in all tribulation and anguish of heart, 
as well as in the state of highest comfort. 

Thomas d Kempis. 



%\\\Xfat$\ thou to reach heaven without trial or 
affliction when Christ Himself suffered, and 
each of His faithful followers and friends has 
drunk of the cup of sorrow ? Ask the triumph- 
ant citizens of heaven if thou wilt ; all will 
answer, that through much tribulation and many 
stripes have they attained to the glory of God. 
Then take the yoke of the Lord upon thee ; for 
those who love Him it is easy and light. Grasp 
firmly thy cross ; it shall distil thee virtue, and 
outpour on thee the oil of grace. What wilt 
thou further ? Behold, this is the right, the holy, 
the perfect way ; it is the way of Christ, the 
way of the righteous and the elect. 

T ho inns. 



1 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 45 

|Jf we scan things rightly, we have no reason to 
be saddened for those worldly goods that we 
lose. For what is it we can lose which properly 
we can call ours ? Job goes further : he blesseth 
him that taketh away, as well as him that gives, 
and, by a question, concludes his contentment 
with both. " Shall we receive good at the hands 
of the Lord, and not evil ? " And hitherto the 
text clears him from being passionate for any or 
all of his crosses. If, after, he did fly out, it was 
the redarguing of his misguided friends, not his 
being stripped of all, that moved him. Nay, it 
is certain, in the reclitude of reason, we cannot 
lose at all. If one lend me a jewel to wear, 
shall I, because I use it, say it is my own ? Or 
when my friend requires it again, shall I say I 
have lost it ? No ; I will restore it rather. 
Though we are pleased that we are trusted with 
the borrowed things of this life, we ought not to 
be displeased when the great Creator calls for 
what He has but lent us. He does us no injury 
that takes but his own ; and he pleads an unjust 
title against heaven that repines at what the God 
of heaven resumes. It was doubtless such a 
consideration as this that made Zeno, when he 
had been shipwrecked, only to applaud fortune, 
and to say she had done honestly in reducing 
him but to his coat. Shall God afford us, all our 

7 



*' 



I4 6 ^ ROSARY FOR LENT. 

life long, not only food, but feasting ; not for use, 
but ornament ; not necessity alone, but pleasure ; 
and when at last He withdraws, shall we be pas- 
sionate and melancholy ? If, in the blackness 
of the night, one by accident allows me the 
benefit of his light to walk by, shall I quarrel 
with him because he brings me not home ? I 
am to thank him for a little which he did not 
owe me, but never to be angry that he affords 
not more. He that hath abundance rides 
through the world on horseback. Perhaps he is 
carried with some more ease, but he runs the 
hazard of his beast ; and besides the casualty of 
his own frailty, he is subject to the danger of 
those stumbles that his bearer makes. He that 
wants a plenty does but walk on foot. He is 
not borne so high upon the creature, but more 
securely passes through the various adventures 
of life, and not being spurred by pricking want, 
may take his ease in travelling as he pleases. 
In all losses I would have a double prospect : I 
would consider what I have lost, and I would 
have regard to what I have left ; it may be in 
my loss I may find a benefit. I may be rid 
with it of a trouble, a snare, or danger. If it be 
wealth, perhaps there was a time when I had it 
not. Let me think if then I lived not well with- 
out it. 



*■ 



'* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 47 

Let me look to what I have left. He that 
miscarries once will husband what is left the 
better. If the die of fortune hath thrown me an 
ill chance, let me strive to mend it by my good 
play. What I have is made more precious by 
my want of what I once was owner of. If I 
have lost but little, let me be thankful that I lost 
no more, seeing that the remainder was as flitting 
as the rest that is gone. He that in a battle is 
but slightly wounded, rather rejoices that he is 
got off so well than grieves that he was hurt at 
all. But admit it were all that is gone : a man 
hath hope still left, and he may as well hope to 
recover the things he hath lost as he did acquire 
them when he had them not. This will lead 
him to a new magazine, where he cannot deny 
but he may be supplied with advantage. God 
will be left still. And who can be poor who 
hath Him for his friend that hath all ? In pen- 
ury a Christian can be rich ; and it is a kind of 
paradox to think he can be poor that is destined 
to be a kingdom's heir. 

Felltham. 



§Jp0( wonder if an atheist breaks his neck thereat, 
whereat the foot of David himself (Psalm lxxiii. 



148 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

2, 3) did almost slip when he saw the prosperity 
of the wicked, whom God only reprieves for pun- 
ishment hereafter. 

Fuller. 



*■ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 49 



JlHitger of $ic(j«. 



^ come to Thee once more, my God ! 

No longer will I roam ; 
For I have sought the wide world through 

And never found a home. 



Though bright and many are the spots 

Where I have built a nest, 
Yet in the brightest still I pined 

For more abiding rest. 

Riches could bring me joy and power, 

And they were fair to see ; 
Yet gold was but a sorry god 

To serve instead of Thee. 

Then honor and the world's good word 

Appeared a nobler faith ; 
Yet could I rest on bliss that hung 

And trembled on a breath ? 



*■ 



►|*3B1 



150 A BOS ART FOR LENT. 

The pleasure of the passing hour 

My spirit next could wile ; 
But soon, full soon, my heart fell sick 

Of pleasure's weary smile. 

More selfish grown, I worshipped health, 

The flush of manhood's power ; 
But then it came and went so quick, 

It was but for an hour. 

And thus a not unkindly world 

Hath done its best for me ; 
Yet I have found, O God ! no rest, 

No harbor short of Thee. 

For Thou hast made this wondrous soul 

All for Thyself alone ; 
Ah ! send Thy sweet, transforming grace 

To make it more Thine own. 

Faber. 

SEE the whole race of man, even 
from the rising to the setting sun, 
wearily roaming the market of the 
world. Some seek riches ; others, 
rank and authority ; others, vain 
ambition. How shall I apostrophize riches ? 
Are they not acquired with difficulty, possessed 
in fear, and lost with sorrow ? Behold, what vain 
toil for the sake of such fugitive treasure ! 
Though (according to the saying of the wise 




* 



BSBSI 



**%* 



A ROSARY FOB LENT. I 5 I 

man) thou art only three fingers' breadth removed 
from death, yet thou bravest the ocean, rliest thy 
country, forsakest thy parents, separatest from 
wife and child, forgettest the ties of friendship, — 
only to seek that which thou collectest, to colle6l 
what thou must lose, and after losing, shalt con- 
tinually regret. Oh, children of men, how long 
will ye be drunken, how long will ye love 
vanity ! What shall I say of rank and station ? 
Thou art placed in a responsible office, thou art 
the head in affairs of importance — God shall 
demand of thee an account of thy actions ; of man 
thou art strictly watched — spies surround thee 
on every side, ready at the same time to criticise 
and to condemn. Who can be in authority 
without anxieties ? have much honor without 
many burdens ? How shouldst thou profess 
glory — a groveller in the dust, a creature of clay, 
an impure vessel ? Not unto thee, not unto thee, 
but unto the Name of the Lord, be all honor 
and praise. Canst thou enjoy favor or applause 
without exciting envy ? Behold the seeds of 
envy thou sowest ; they over whose head thou 
mountest, contemplate thee with bitter and 
angry glances. That which flatters thee brings 
thee hatred ; that which raises thee, in turn 
oppresses thee. Such is the merchandise for 
whose acquisition fools weary and torment them- 



■■99 



* 



152 A BOS ART FOB LENT. 

selves. The wise man turns his back upon the 
trade, binds upon it instead the denial of the 
world, and — goes hence. 

Bernard, 



iB\t%$t& are those who dwell in the world only 
as pilgrims and strangers. The stranger goes 
by the shortest route, he strives and longs to 
reach his home ; has he food and clothing, he is 
therewith content ; all else is a thing of nought. 
Yet higher stand those of whom the Apostle 
says, " Ye are dead, and your life is hid with 
Christ in God ; " the stranger is often detained 
longer than he should be by all he sees and 
hears on the road ; but the dead are insensible, 
though even burial should be wanting. They 
hear neither blame nor praise, neither flattery 
nor slander. Oh, blessed death, which preserves 
man so unspotted, yea, so completely alienated 
from the world ! They who no longer live in 
themselves must then live in Christ. For, 
though such are dead to all things earthly, are 
unconscious of them, esteem them not, have no 
thought for them, yet in spiritual they are living 
and susceptible. But, perhaps, there may be 
found a yet more blessed state ; and with whom 
shall we find it but with Him who " was caught 



DHB 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 53 

up into the third heaven ? " Hear St. Paul : 
" God forbid that I should glory, save in the 
cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the 
world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." 
He says not only dead, but " crucified! 1 I to it, 
it to me. All that the world loves is to me a 
cross ; fleshly desires, high rank, riches, the 
praise of men ; what the world counts a cross, 
to that I cling, to that I nail myself, to that my 
whole soul subjects itself. Is not this position 
higher than either the first or the second ? 

Bernard. 



|jt is most difficult to possess riches without 
setting the heart upon them. The desire of 
the Christian, as iron between the magnets, 
hovers between the treasures of eternity and the 
treasures of time. Faith draws him above, the 
senses drag him below. As each allurement of 
the senses is more powerful in contiguity than in 
distance, it is clear that the rich must be more 
led away, of earthly desires than the poor ; our 
Lord says : " It is easier for a camel to go through 
the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter 
the kingdom of heaven." As we cannot live 
without some portion of temporal goods, let us 
employ them as the sick man his nauseous yet 

7* 



154 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

necessary draught — he takes but little of it, and 
that unwillingly ; gladly would he dispense with it 
entirely. Thus also should earthly goods be dis- 
tasteful to our spiritual tastes, and always preserve 
a bitter and unpleasant flavor. Will we serve 
God, we cannot love the world. 

Savonarola. 



§f cannot call riches better than the baggage 
of virtue ; the Roman word is better, " impedi- 
menta ; " for, as the baggage is to an army, so is 
riches to virtue, it cannot be spared or left be- 
hind, but it hindereth the march ; yea, and the 
care of it sometimes loseth or disturbeth the 
victory. 



Bacon. 



*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



155 



jfourtt) Jfribag- 



spiritual §arkitess. 



^Jflt Thou from us, O Lord, but we 
Withdraw ourselves from thee. 



When we are dark and dead, 
And Thou art covered with a cloud, 
Hanging before Thee, like a shroud, 
So that our prayer can find no way ; 
Oh ! teach us that we do not say, 
" Where is Thy brightness fled ? " 

But that we search and try 

What in ourselves has wrought this blame ; 

For Thou remainest still the same ; 



156 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



But earth's own vapors earth may fill 
With darkness and thick clouds, while still 
The sun is in the sky. 

Trench. 




OU ask me if our Lord thinks of 
you, and if He looks upon you with 
love ? Yes, He thinks of you ; and 
not only of you, but of the least 
hair of your head. It is an article 
of faith ; we must in nowise doubt of it. But I 
also know well that you do not doubt of it ; but 
you only express in this way the aridity, the dry- 
ness, and insensibility in which the inferior part 
of your soul just now finds itself. Indeed the 
Lord is in this place, and I knew it not, said 
Jacob, that is to say I did not perceive it, I had 
no feeling of it, it did not seem to me to be so ; 
and as to God looking on you with love, of this 
you have no reason to doubt, for He lovingly 
beholds the most horrible sinners in the world, 
little true desire as they have of conversion. 
What ! tell me, have you not the intention of 
belonging to God ? Do you not desire to serve 
Him faithfully ? And who gives you this desire 
and this intention, if not Himself with His loving 
regard ? 

You ought not to examine whether your heart 
is pleasing to Him ; but you certainly ought to 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 57 

examine whether His heart is pleasing to you ; 
and if you look upon His heart it will be impos- 
sible for it not to please you ; for it is a heart so 
gentle, so sweet, so condescending, so loving 
towards frail creatures, provided they acknow- 
ledge their misery, so gracious towards the mis- 
erable, so good towards the penitent ; and who 
would not love this royal heart so full of tender- 
ness for us ! 

You say well, that these temptations happen 
to you because your heart is without tenderness 
towards God ; for it is true that if you had ten- 
derness, you would have consolation, you would 
not be in sorrow. But the love of God does not 
consist in consolation, or in tenderness, else our 
Lord did not love His Father when He was sor- 
rowful even unto death, and when He cried out : 
My God ! my God ! why hast Thou forsaken 
met But it was, nevertheless, then .that He 
made the greatest acl; of love that it is possible 
to imagine. 

No doubt we should like always to have a little 
consolation and sugar on our food ; that is to 
say, to have the sentiments of love and tender- 
ness, and consequently consolation ; but we must 
submit with patience to belong not to the angelic 
nature, but to the human. Our imperfections 
ought not to please us ; on the contrary, we 



»b 



158 A BOS ART FOB LENT. 

ought to say with the holy Apostle : Unhappy 
man that I am, who shall deliver me from the 
body of this death ? But this ought neither to 
astonish us nor to take away our courage ; we 
even ought to derive from it submission, humility, 
and mistrust of ourselves ; but not discourage- 
ment, nor affliction of heart, much less mistrust 
of the love of God towards us ; for God indeed 
loves not our imperfections and our venial sins, 
but He loves us well, notwithstanding those 
sins. Thus, as the weakness and infirmity of a 
child is not pleasing to its mother, but for all 
that, she not only does not cease on that account 
to love it, but loves it tenderly and with compas- 
sion ; so, although God loves not our imperfec- 
tions and our venial sins, He does not fail to love 
us tenderly ; whence David had reason to say to 
God : Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am 
weak. , 

Now, that is enough ; live cheerfully : our 
Lord looks upon you, and looks upon you with 
love, and with so much the more tenderness, be- 
cause you are weak. Never allow your mind 
voluntarily to nourish contrary thoughts ; and 
when they do occur to you, do not look at them 
themselves : turn away your eyes from their 
iniquity, and return to God with a courageous 
humility, to speak to Him of His unspeakable 



*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. I 59 

goodness with which He loveth us, poor, abjecl:, 
and weak as we are. 

St. Francis de Sales. 



dut$ freezing heart, O Lord ! this will 

Dry as the desert sand, 
Good thoughts that will not come, bad thoughts 

That come without command, — 

A faith that seems not faith, a hope 

That cares not for its aim ; 
A love that none the hotter grows. 

At Thy most Blessed Name, — 

The weariness of prayer, the mist 

O'er conscience overspread ; 
The chill repugnance to frequent 

The feast of angels' Bread, — 

If all this change be Thine, O Lord ! 

If it be Thy sweet will, 
Spare not, but to the very brim 

The bitter chalice fill. 

But if it hath been sin of mine, 

Then show that sin to me, 
Not to get back the sweetness lost, 

But to make peace with Thee. 

One thing alone, dear Lord ! I dread ; — 

To have a secret spot 
That separates my soul from Thee, 

And yet to know it not. 



l6o A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

For when the tide of graces set 

So full upon my heart, 
I know, dear Lord ! how faithlessly 

I did my little part. 

I know how well my heart hath earned 

A chastisement like this, 
In trifling many a grace away 

In self-complacent bliss. 

But if this weariness hath come 

A present from on high, 
Teach me to find the hidden wealth 

That in its depths may lie. 

So in this darkness I may learn 

To tremble and adore, 
To sound my own vile nothingness, 

And thus to love Thee more — 

To love Thee, and yet not to think 
That I can love so much, — 

To have Thee with me, Lord ! all day, 
Yet not to feel Thy touch. 

If I have served Thee, Lord ! for hire, 
Hire which Thy beauty showed, 

Can I not serve Thee now for naught, 
And only as my God ? 

Thrice blessed be this darkness then, 

This deep in which I lie, 
And blessed be all things that teach 



to' 



God's dear supremacy 



Faber. 






A EOS ART FOB LENT. 



161 



ifourtt) Saturftag. 



t\t gark £ibe of JUh% 



^\ lOtt? 5 To land alone upon that shore ! 
On which no wavelets lisp, no billows roar, 

Perhaps no shape of ground, 

Perhaps no sight or sound, 
No forms of earth our fancies to arrange, — 
But to begin alone that mighty change ! 

Alone ! To land alone upon that shore ! 
Knowing so well we can return no more ; 

No voice or face of friend, 

None with us to attend 
Our disembarking on that awful strand, 
But to arrive alone in such a land ! 

Alone ! To land alone upon that shore ! 
To begin alone to live for evermore ; 

To have no one to teach 

The manners or the speech 




1 62 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Of that new life, or put us at our ease ; — 
Oh, that we might die in pairs or companies ! 



BOLISH death?" 

Have we not, then, all to die ? 
Yes, certainly that end is before 
all the living. Death, or its equi- 
valent — death, for all generations 
save one ; its equivalent, a change equal to death, 
for that one generation which shall be alive at 
Christ's advent — this is our portion, this is our 
prospect ; nothing which Christ has done has 
interfered with the working of that one universal 
rule of the Adam being. " It is appointed unto 
men once to die." 

And what is death ? Who shall tell us what 
death is ? 

We know how to define it ; as the dissolution 
of soul and body ; the snapping in twain of the 
twofold cord, the material body and the imma- 
terial soul, which is our link to the living ; the 
departure of that soul, the presence of which is 
life, from the house of this tabernacle, and the 
dropping down of the dead weight of the body 
Upon the earth from which it was taken. 

And we can say even more of the circum- 
stances of death. We can tell of the gradual or 
the more sudden approach of that last enemy ; 



* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 63 

of his coming as we have seen it in a decay of 
strength, a contraction of the daily walk, first 
within the four walls, then to the chamber, then 
to the bed, at last to the coffin ; and (what is 
even worse) a slow but perceptible numbing of 
the faculties, enfeebling of the memory and rea- 
son, narrowing of the range of thought, and con- 
fining of the flight of mind, till at last we begin 
to say, what will be left for eternity and heaven ? 
or else of his coming as we have seen it in youth 
or in middle age, through infection, through 
fever, through accident, through sin — when rea- 
son has been upset on her throne, or held down 
trembling upon it (according to that wonderful 
saying), by a frenzy seated beside her ; or else, it 
may be, has simply slumbered, drugged by dis- 
ease or by its remedies, and has so passed away 
without word or sign to tell whither the man was 
going, or whether, indeed, any whither. These 
things we have seen, and we have thought, per- 
haps, that we saw death in seeing them, when in 
reality they were all but circumstances and acci- 
dents of the very thing itself; and we turned 
from that death-bed, or came back from that 
grave, just as ignorant of the essential nature of 
that mighty change which is before each one of 
us, as if, indeed, we had heard nothing, seen 
nothing, and felt nothing. 



— * 



1 64 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

And yet, I say, this change — this mysterious, 
unknown, secret change which we call death, 
which we define, and of which we daily see the 
circumstances and the consequences, this change 
is before each one of us. In some way, at some 
time, we must all, we must each die. 

This prospect affects different men very differ- 
ently. 

Some men are reckless of it. They not only 
forget, they even despise it. They not only do 
many things which they would not do if they ex- 
pected it ; they not only trifle with health of 
mind and body ; they not only wanton with sin, 
and brave consequences, and defy judgment, but 
they even, in the boldness of a constitutional 
hardihood, will risk life itself, or give away life 
itself, without a fear of the thing called dying, and 
without an apprehension of that "undiscovered 
country" which they know lies beyond it. 

Other men are but too mindful of it, if they can 
be. They are timid about infection ; they 
tremble at the first touch of illness ; they shrink 
from the mention of disease ; they will leave any 
symptom unexplored and untraced within them 
rather than incur the possibility that the physi- 
cian may look grave over the indication, and hint 
the existence of that malady which is to ring the 
knell of life. 



r I ' I' i i in ii ii 



'* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 65 

On the whole, an Apostle teaches us that the 
fear of death is a predominant feeling in man's 
nature. He says that Christ came to "deliver 
those who, through fear of death, were all their 
lifetime subject to bondage." It is natural to 
fear death. Death is one of those real dangers 
which lose not, but rather gain, by a close and 
thoughtful inspection. It is a very serious mat- 
ter, that within seventy years at the furthest, all 
but one or two of my readers will be in their 
graves, unless they shall have risen. It is a 
solemn thought, that more surely than that any 
one of us will lie down to sleep to-night, or rise 
from sleep to-morrow, each one of us will have to 
pass through, separately and alone, that act of 
dying, and that state of death, of which there is 
no one to tell us either the nature or the conse- 
quences. No one comes back from death to en- 
lighten us as to its essence ; and if such a return 
were ordained for any, he could not make us un- 
derstand ; he could not put us, in imagination or 
in knowledge, in the place which each one must 
occupy some day by actual experience. Such a 
prospect is serious ; only a fool can despise it. 
The fear of death is the natural feeling ; and from 
that fear grows (the Apostle says) bondage. A 
man feels himself a slave. Here is a necessity 
which he cannot evade. Here is a thing to be 



1 66 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

borne, and a state to be entered, which he can 
neither avoid by skill, nor refuse by resolution, 
nor even know beforehand, by any study, any 
philosophy, or any devotion. A man who is 
liable to this cannot be called free. Through 
fear of death, he is all his lifetime subject to 
bondage. 

We hardly consider how dark the grave must 
have been before Christ came. 

I know that a few of the ancient philosophers 
thought out by reasoning, and taught as a dogma 
of their science, the truth of a life after death. It 
was a noble triumph of the unassisted reason. 
That man should have thus argued out, by pure 
philosophy, the tenet of his own immortality, 
seems to say to us that Scripture must indeed be 
true, which tells us that God created man in His 
own image, after His own likeness — the image of 
His intelligence, the likeness of His reason, and 
of His foresight, and of His reflection. 

And yet, if we read one of those writings in 
which the immortality of the soul is argued out 
by the greatest of Greek philosophers, I think 
we shall say that his argument could convince 
no one — could scarcely have convinced himself. 
Inaccessible by its subtlety to the common mul- 
titude, it must have been unsatisfactory by its 
fancifulness to the privileged few. It was a 



i 



A BOS ART FOR LENT. 1 67 

sound conclusion from unsound premises. It 
could scarcely be dignified with a higher praise 
than this, " that it was one guess amongst many" 
of the highest philosophy of Greece. Woe to 
the man who has to lean his whole weight for 
eternity upon such a basis ! If instinct does not 
teach immortality, we shall look in vain for it in 
philosophy. 

And even in the Scriptures of the Old Testa- 
ment, a life, after death, can scarcely be said to 
be made the subject of express revelation. I 
know that there are passages, neither few nor 
doubtful, which imply it ; hopes expressed by 
righteous men, for themselves, of a life with 
God hereafter, and intimations in the Prophets 
of an immortality for man, chiefly in the form of 
similitudes applied to the resuscitation of na- 
tions. Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself teaches us 
to look for these things in the Old Testament, 
and finds them for us in places where they 
might have escaped our research. 

But, I will venture to say this, that there is no 
such thing in the Old Testament Scriptures 
(till Gospel light is thrown upon them), as an 
abolition of death, and a bringing of life and im- 
mortality to light. 

VaugJian. 



1 68 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



jfcnrtf) Stmfrag- 



% §"# &to* ol 8'*% 



JTtOW pleasant are thy paths, Death ! 

Like the bright slanting west, 
Thou leadest down into the glow 
Where all those heaven-bound sunsets go, 

Ever from toil to rest. 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

Back to our own dear dead, 
Into that land which hides in tombs 
The better part of our old homes ; 

'Tis there thou mak'st our bed. 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

Thither where sorrows cease, 
To a new life, to an old past, 
Softly and silently we haste, 

Into a land of peace. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 69 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

Thy new restores our lost ; 
There are voices of the new times 
With the ringing of the old chimes 

Blent sweetly on thy coast. 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

One faint for want of breath, — 
And above thy promise thou hast given ; 
All, we find more than all in heaven, 

O thou truth-speaking Death ! 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

E'en children after play 
Lie down without the least alarm, 
And sleep in thy maternal arm, 

Their little life away. 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

E'en grown-up men secure 
Better manhood, by a brave leap 
Through the chill mist of thy thin sleep, — 

Manhood that will endure. 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

The old, the very old, 
Smile when their slumberous eye grows dim, 
Smile when they feel thee touch each limb, — 

Their age was not less cold. 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

Ever from pain to ease ; 
Patience, that hath held on for years, 
Never unlearns her humble fears 

Of terrible disease. 
8 






170 



A BOSABY FOR LENT. 



How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

From sin to pleasing God ; 
For the pardoned in thy land are bright 
As innocence in robe of white, 

And walk on the same road. 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

Straight to our Father's Home ; 
All loss were gain that gained us this, 
The sight of God, that single bliss 

Of the grand world to come. 

How pleasant are thy paths, O Death ! 

Ever from toil to rest, — 
Where a rim of sea-like splendor runs, 
Where the days bury their golden suns, 

In the dear hopeful west. 



" For me to live is Christ and to die is gain. 



|Y friends, I beg you to notice the 
feeling with which the holy Apostle 
here considers life and death. No- 
tice first this, which serves him as 
a starting-point, and which is the 
motto of his Christian life : " For me to live is 
Christ and to die is gain ; " that is to say, my 
life, my natural life which I live to-day, and which 
I may lose to-morrow, is employed in nothing 
else but in following and serving Jesus Christ. 
To die — it is a gain. This needs no explanation. 



Faber. 




A ROSARY FOR LENT. \Jl 

Above, the Apostle asks whether it is better for 
him to live or die. This question often presents 
itself to us, and perhaps we have answered as 
the Apostle did. But, it is to be feared, in a 
very different spirit. When we have wished for 
death, it has meant, " I do not know which I 
should dread most, the afflictions of life, from 
which death will deliver me, or the terrors of 
death, from which life preserves me." In short 
that life and death seem to us two evils, between 
which we can with difficulty decide. While to 
the Apostle, they seem two great blessings, 
between which he cannot choose. Personally, 
he desires to die, to be with Christ. While for 
the Church and for the world, he desires to live, 
to serve Christ, to extend his dominion and to 
gain souls for him. What a beautiful view of 
death ; beautiful, because it is all governed, all 
sanctified by love ; because it is the view taken 
by Christ himself. 

Let us try to enter into this sentiment. Life 
is good ; death is good. Death is good, because 
it sets us free from the misery of this life, and 
above all, because, let life be as full as it may be 
of earthly joys, death conducts us into a joy and 
a glory of which we cannot even dream. We 
ought then to look upon death as upon some- 
thing desirable in itself. We should not put 



'* 



172 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

from us all that would recall it. All the mala- 
dies, all the sudden deaths, all that goes on 
around us, should remind us, that to each one of 
us it may come at any moment. 

Life also is good, because it gives us power to 
serve Christ, to glorify Christ, to follow Christ's 
example. Life is not worth living for anything 
else. All that we have of strength, of breath, of 
life, of talent, should be consecrated, devoted, 
sanctified, crucified for the service of our Lord 
Christ. This crucified life is a life of happiness, 
even in the midst of the bitterest sorrows of 
earth ; for in it we can taste and diffuse around 
us the most precious benedictions. Let us love 
life, let us feel the worth of life, only to fill it with 
Christ Jesus. To have this feeling, the Holy 
Ghost must renew and transform us. But re- 
member, it is not only our spirit that ought to be 
sustained, consoled, strengthened, it is the Spirit 
of God which must come and take up its abode 
in us. We often endeavor to work upon our- 
selves, to adorn our own souls ; it is well, but it 
is not enough. Something more is necessary ; 
it is necessary that Jesus Christ Himself inhabit 
our hearts by His Holy Spirit. 

O my friends, if you consider what the pro- 
mises of the Gospel are, you will see how far you 
are from truly enjoying and possessing them. 



►J«' 



A EOSAEY FOR LENT. 173 

Oh, that God would open the heaven above our 
heads, and reveal all to us, fill us with all wis- 
dom, make us see that, even here below, we can 
attain to perjecl: joy, while waiting for the fulness 
of felicity and victory. That He will make us 
reap the blessings which heaven is pleased to 
shed upon the earth, which opens her bosom to 
receive them ! That He will make us realize 
that if the earth is capable of beating down and 
troubling us, it is not capable of extinguishing 
the lights of heaven, nor of annihilating the pro- 
mises of God, nor of throwing a veil, no, not 
even ttie lightest cloud, over the love with which 
God has loved us in Jesus Christ ! 

Adolphe Monod, 



J 74 



A BOS ART FOE LENT. 



jfcmrtt) ffionbaib. 



Sfttorbs. 



gnttttf thou thy words, the thoughts control 

That o'er thee swell and throng ; 
They will condense within thy soul, 
And change to purpose strong. 

But he, who lets his feelings run 

In soft luxurious flow, 
Shrinks when hard service must be done, 

And faints at every woe. 

Faith's meanest deed more favor bears, 
Where hearts and wills are weighed, 

Than brightest transports, choicest prayers, 
Which bloom their hour and fade. 

Lyra Apostolica. 

IFTENTIMES I could wish that I 
had held my peace when I have 
spoken, and that I had not been in 
company. 

Why do we so willingly speak 
and talk one with another, when notwithstanding 




A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 75 

we seldom return to silence without hurt of con- 
science. 

The cause why we so willingly talk, is for that 
by discoursing one with another we seek to 
receive comfort one of another, and desire to ease 
our minds overwearied with sundry thoughts. 

And we very willingly talk and think of those 
things which we most love or desire ; or of those 
which we feel most contrary (or troublesome) 
unto us. 

But, alas, oftentimes in vain, and to no end ; for 
this outward comfort is the cause of no small 
loss of inward and divine consolation. 

Therefore we must watch and pray, lest our 
time pass away idly. 

If it be lawful and expedient for thee to speak, 
speak those things that may edify. 

An evil custom and neglect of our own good 
doth give too much liberty to inconsiderate 
speech. 

Yet religious discourses of spiritual things do 
greatly further our spiritual growth, especially 
when persons of one mind and spirit be gathered 
together in God. 

Thomas d Kempis. 



* 



176 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Wvwft man knoweth the things of a man, save 
the spirit of a man which is in him ? A great 
gulf were fixed between us and our fellow-men 
did not words, as a lever, interchange thought 
from heart to heart. Wonderful is this, but yet 
more wonderful that each needs these words for 
his own necessities. Who does not require 
them, to recall his soul, control his reason, collect 
his thoughts ? Who does not require to be ex- 
cited by complaints, admonished by rebukes, 
assaulted by threats ? Who does not often make 
such confession in words as, " from Him cometh 
my salvation ? " Who does not console himself 
as the Psalmist, " Why art thou cast down, O my 
soul, and why art thou disquieted within me?" 
My heart forsakes me, therefore I must commune 
with myself as with another, till it return and 
again animate me. Not until we have reached 
the fulness of our stature in Christ shall we 
cease to need words. Where " the middle wall 
of partition " is broken down, through the love 
of the eternal mediation, there the interposition 
of words will no longer be necessary. 

Bernard. 



3|0U£ should spend their time in idle conversa- 
tion. Words fly forth and cannot be recalled ; 



-^ iiMiiniTiii 



**mmmm 



*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 77 

time speeds onward and never returns. A fool 
does not consider the value of what he fritters. 
" We will talk," saith he, " until the hour passes." 
" Till the hour passes ! " — which a merciful Crea- 
tor yet gives thee to repent of sin, to seek grace, 
to prepare for eternity ; till the time hastens by 
in which thou mightest win God's love, partake 
of the communion of spirits, bewail a lost inhe- 
ritance, gird up the yielding will, and weep for 
sins committed. Does the peasant indolently 
recline, passing his hours in idleness, when favor- 
able seasons summon him to the harvest or the 
vineyard ? Does the peddler stand with hands 
crossed upon his breast when the fair-time draws 
near? Do beggars seek corners of the streets 
in which to conceal themselves when alms are 
being distributed ? Yet did the matter rest here, 
only this world's time were lost ; many, alas ! lose 
with it life itself ; nor only this, they rob their 
brethren of it also. 

Bernard. 



($\Xt of the saints asked a monk to teach him a 
psalm. He began with that, " I said, I will take 
heed to my ways, that I offend not with my 
tongue." Having learnt the first verse, he asked 
to have it explained ; and having heard the expla- 

8* 



* 



i;8 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

nation, said he would not learn any more till he 
had done what this first verse commanded, and 
would afterwards learn the rest. He did not 
return for several years, and the monk meeting 
him, asked why he did not learn the rest of the 
psalm ; he replied, he had not yet done what was 
contained in the first verse. 

Savonarola. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. I 79 



jfourtf) &ue0bag- 



Habitation. 



(!)}J£tt t Lord, my inward ear, 

And bid my heart rejoice ! 
Bid my quiet spirit hear 

Thy comfortable voice ; 
Never in the whirlwind found, 

Or where earthquakes rock the place ; 
Still and silent is the sound, 

The whisper of thy grace ! 

From the world of sin and noise 

And hurry, I withdraw ; 
For the small and inward voice 

I wait with humble awe : 
Silent am I now, and still 

Dare not in thy presence move : 



i8o 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



To my waiting soul reveal 
The secret of thy love ! 



Charles Wesley. 








EDITATION he calls by a highly 
refined metaphor, "the sleep of the 
soul," because it refreshes the mind, 
as rest does the body ; and again, as in 
bodily sleep, the operations of the 
body do not acl beyond themselves, but are re- 
strained within the limits of the body, so, says 
the youthful saint, " I will keep all my spiritual 
faculties within the limits of the spirit." This 
is a passage full of the most suggestive wisdom, 
and containing one of the choicest rules of me- 
ditation, inculcating that drawing of the mind 
from things of sense, which St. Catharine of 
Sienna, called the building of a cell within her 
heart, and which another holy person, B. Leon- 
ardo Fattore, signified by this expression, " the 
land of faith." The " land of faith " was a cer- 
tain state of the soul, calm, equable, and pene- 
trated with the conviction of the truth of reli- 
gion, in which he placed it occasionally when in 
the midst of the business and trials of life. To 
return, however, to Francis. If he cannot find 
time at the usual hour for this " most vigilant 
sleep of the soul," he resolves to deprive him- 
self of a portion of his bodily sleep in order to 



A BOS ART FOR LENT. l8l 

it, either by remaining awake after he goes 
to bed, or rousing himself after his first sleep, or 
rising earlier than usual. He provides beautiful 
thoughts for himself from the sacred Scriptures 
if he chances to wake during the night ; I will 
rouse my heart with the words : Media nocle 
clamor fac~lus est: Ecce sponsus venit, exite ob- 
viamei: "At midnight there was a cry made : 
Behold the Bridegroom cometh, go ye forth to 
meet Him ! " Then, from the consideration of 
the darkness outside of me, passing on to the 
inward darkness of my soul, and of all sinners, 
thus I will pray during the night : Illuminare 
his qui in tenebris, &c. ; " To enlighten them that 
sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to 
direct our feet into the way of peace." He 
adds : " But since nightly terrors sometimes hin- 
der the acts of such devotion, if I chance to be 
seized with them, I will deliver myself from them 
by thinking of my angel -guardian, saying, Domi- 
nus a dextris meis est, ne commovear ; which 
some doctors have interpreted of the angel- 
guardian." 

The subjects which he marks down for medita- 
tion, though not differing from those to be found 
in ordinary books (which, indeed, have ever since 
his time been much colored by his writings), 
are expressed in a highly original manner. Thus 



1 82 A EOSAEY FOR LENT. 

he resolves, when he has an opportune time for 
this " holy quiet," to recall the pious emotions, 
longings, desires, resolutions, sweetnesses, and 
inspirations which he has formerly received from 
the Divine Majesty ; and also to call to mind 
how great his obligation is to Almighty God, " in 
that in His mercy He has at times weakened my 
senses by some diseases and infirmities, which 
have been of no little advantage to me." There 
is also a short and admirable reflection on the 
excellence of Christian virtue, "which sanctifies 
a man, which changes him into an angel, which 
makes him a little God (deulum), which in this 
life confers paradise on him." Lastly, are some 
wonderful thoughts on the attributes of God. " I 
will contemplate," he says, " the infinite wisdom, 
omnipotence, and incomprehensible goodness of 
God ; but I will specially aim at this, how these 
excellent attributes shine forth in the sacred 
mysteries of the life, death, and passion of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, and in the imitable perfections 
of the faithful servants of God. Passing from 
thence to the empyrean heaven, I will marvel 
at the glory of paradise, the unfailing felicity of 
the angelic spirits, and of the souls of the blessed ; 
and how the most august Trinity, in the eternal 
rewards wherewith It remunerates this blessed 
multitude, shows Itself powerful, wise, and good." 

Life of St. Francis de Sales. Ornsby. 



'+ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 83 

(llUXt is a millstone which ceaselessly turns. 
The Master has commanded his servants to grind 
upon it only the best of grain — wheat, barley, or 
oats. An enemy watches the stone, and so often 
as he perceives it empty, he either sprinkles it 
with sand, which corrodes it, or pitch, which 
clogs it, or chaff, which occupies it uselessly. 
Now hear what this parable teaches. The grind- 
stone is the human heart, which is continually 
revolving in thought. God has commanded every 
man to meditate only upon good. Deep and 
peaceful reflection on the things of God is like 
the wheat ; the consecrating of the soul to devo- 
tion is the barley ; virtuous resolutions the oats. 
Thus should mankind prepare for themselves 
eternal food. But the devil is continually watch- 
ing, and if he finds the heart empty of good 
thoughts for an instant by its spiritual occupants, 
immediately he pours in a flood of evil thoughts. 
Some consume it, as wrath and envy ; others 
obscure it, as dissipation and luxury ; others oc- 
cupy it profitlessly, as vain ambition. 

A nselm. 



184 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



JFiftl) tDebnesbajx 



&Ijc Potjjer of our |Torb. 



£5U£$t among women is thy lot ; 
But higher meed we yield thee not, 
Nor more than woman's name. 

Nor solemn " Hail " to thee we pay, 
Nor prayer to thee for mercy pray, 

Nor hymn of glory raise ; 
Nor thine we deem is God's high throne ; 
Nor thine the birthright of thy Son, 

The Mediator's praise. 

Mother of Jesus, Parent dear ! 

If aught of earthly thou couldst hear, 

If aught of human see ; 
What pangs thy humble heart must wring 



* 



-* 



; : 






A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

To know thy Saviour, God, and King, 
Dishonored thus for thee ! 



185 




Bishop Mant. 

T. LUKE the Evangelist was early- 
regarded as the great authority 
with respect to the few Scripture 
particulars relating to the charac- 
ter and life of Mary ; so that in 
the figurative sense he may be said to have 
painted that portrait of her which has been since 
received as the perfect type of womanhood : — 1. 
Her noble, trustful humility when she receives 
the salutation of the angel (Luke i. 38) ; the 
complete and feminine surrender of her whole 
being to the higher, holier will — " Be it unto me 
according to thy word." 2. Then the decision 
and prudence of character, shown in her visit to 
Elizabeth, her older relative ; her journey in 
haste over the hills to consult with her cousin, 
which journey it is otherwise difficult to accord 
with the oriental customs of the time, unless 
Mary, young as she was, had possessed un- 
usual promptitude and energy of disposition. 
(Luke i. 39, 40.) 3. The proof of her intellec- 
tual power in the beautiful hymn she has left 
us : " My soul doth magnify the Lord." (Luke i. 
46.) The commentators are not agreed as to 
whether this effusion was poured forth by imme- 



MM 



'* 



1 86 A BOSABY FOB LENT. 

diate inspiration, or composed and written down, 
because the same words, " and Mary said," may 
be interpreted in either sense ; but we can no 
more doubt of her being the authoress than we 
can doubt of any other particulars recorded in 
the same Gospel ; it proves that she must have 
been, for her time and country, most rarely gifted 
in mind, and deeply read in the Scriptures. 4. 
She was of a contemplative, reflecting, rather si- 
lent disposition. " She kept all these sayings and 
pondered them in her heart." (Luke ii. 51.) She 
made no boast of that wondrous and most 
blessed destiny to which she was called ; she 
thought upon it in silence. It is inferred that 
as many of these sayings and events could be 
known to herself alone, St. Luke the Evangelist 
could have learned them only from her own lips. 
5. Next, her truly maternal devotion to her Di- 
vine Son, whom she attended humbly through 
his whole ministry. 6, and lastly, the sublime 
fortitude and faith with which she followed her 
Son to the death-scene, stood beside the cross 
till all was finished, and then went home and 
lived (Luke xxiii.) ; for she was to be to us an 
example of all that a woman could endure, as 
well as all that a woman could be and act out in 
her earthly life. (John xix. 25.) 

Such was the character of Mary ; such the 



* »fr 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 87 

portrait really painted by St. Luke ; and as it 
seems to me, these scattered, artless, uninten- 
tional notices of conduct and character converge 
into the most perfect moral type of the intellec- 
tual, tender, simple, and heroic woman that ever 
was placed before us for our edification and ex- 
ample. 

Mrs. Jameson. 



Q) ^LUUlf of the passion, dost thou weep ! 

What help can we then through our tears survey, 
If such as thou a cause for wailing keep ? 

What help, what hope for us, sweet Lady, say ? 
' Good man, it doth befit thy heart to lay 

More courage next it, having seen me so. 
All other hearts find other balm to-day — 

The whole world's consolation is my woe ! ' " 



^TlOtuCt* * whose virgin bosom was uncrost 
With the least shade of thought to sin allied ! 
Woman ! above all women glorified ; 
Our tainted nature's solitary boast ; 
Purer than foam on central ocean tost, 
Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewn 
With fancied roses, than the unblemish'd moon 
Before her wane begins on heaven's blue coast, 
Thy Image falls to earth. Yet some, I ween, 



*' 



1 88 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Not unforgiven, the suppliant knee might bend, 
As to a visible Power in which did blend 
All that was mix'd and reconcil'd in thee, 
Of mother's love with maiden purity, 
Of high with low, celestial with terrene. 

Wordsworth. 



mm 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



189 



JTifti) Styiirsimg. 



Iragtr m ijje $jloriung. 



Sfttftt I must up 



To matins and to work. 

Thank God that one was born at this same hour 

Who did our work for us. We'll talk of Him ; 

We shall go mad with thinking of ourselves. 

We'll talk of Him, and of that new-made star, 

Which, as He stooped into the Virgin's side, 

From off His finger, like a signet-gem, 

He dropped in the empyrean for a sign. 

But the first tear He shed at this His birth-hour, 

When He crept weeping forth to see our woe, 

Fled up to Heaven in mist, and hid forever 

Our sins, our works, and that same new-made star. 

Kingsley. 



*• 



-+ 



E2EESSBB 



19° A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

J3%$ now my soul doth shake 

Dull sleep out of her eyes ; 
So let Thy Spirit me awake, 

That I from sin may rise. 
The night is past away, 

Which filled us full of fears ; 
And we enjoy the glorious day, 

Wherein Thy grace appears. 




[HERE is no doubt but prayer is 
needful daily, ever profitable, and at 
all times commendable. If it be 
for ourselves alone, it is necessary ; 
and it is charitable when it is for 
others. At night, it is our covering ; in the 
morning, it is our armor. I So, at all times it de- 
fends us from the malice of Satan, our own sub- 
ornations and betrayings, the unequal weather 
that the world assaults us with, and preserves us 
in the favor and esteem of Heaven. We are de- 
pendents upon the court, while we are but peti- 
tioners there ; so, till we be denied and dismissed, 
we have the protection thereof, which certainly 
is a privilege that a stranger cannot claim. 

And albeit prayer should be the key of the day 
and the lock of the night, yet I hold it, of the 
two, more needful in the morning than when in 
the evening we commit ourselves to repose. It 
is true we have enough to induce us to it then. 






" iWH'T 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 191 

The day could not but present us with some- 
thing either worthy our thanks, or that needed 
our begging and pardon, for removing or con- 
tinuing something ; and though we be immured 
with walls and darkness, yet we are not exempted 
so from perils, but that, without our God's assist- 
ance, we are left a prey to all that is at enmity 
with man. Besides, sleep is the image or shadow 
of death ; and when the shadow is so near, the 
substance cannot be far remote. The dying 
Gorgias being in a slumber, and asked by a friend 
how he did, he answered, " Pretty well ; only 
sleep is recommending me up to his brother." 
Some, we know, in health have gone to rest 
eternal ; and without thinking of the other world, 
have taken their leave of this, not knowing them- 
selves that they were on their way, till they had 
fully dispatched their journey. 

But notwithstanding all this, a man at rest in 
his chamber, like a sheep impenned in the fold, 
is subject only to unusual events, and such as 
rarely happen ; to the emissions of the more im- 
mediate and unavoidable hand of God. Danger 
seems shut out of doors ; we are secured from 
the injury of the elements, and guarded with a 
fence of iron against the force of such as would 
invade. We are removed from the world's bustle 
and the crowd of occasions that jostle against us 



— * 



192 A BOSABY FOB LENT. 



as we walk abroad. He that is barred up in his 
house, is in his garrison with his guard about him, 
and not so soon attacked by his enemy as he that 
roves in the open and unsheltered field. Who 
knows not the ship to be safer in the bay or har- 
bor, than tossed and beaten in the boiling ocean ? 
Retiredness is more safe than business. We are 
withdrawn when the veil of night and rest en- 
wraps us in their dark and silent cabinet. 

But with the sun we do disclose, and are dis- 
covered to our prying enemies. We go abroad 
to meet what at home does not look after us. 
He that walks through a fair of beasts is in hazard 
to be gored, or kicked, or bruised, or beaten. We 
pass through briers, and thorns, and nettles that 
will prick, and scratch, and sting. We are in the 
day as travelling through a wilderness, where 
wild and savage creatures are, as well as tamer 
animals. All the world is Africa, where heat and 
drought, venom, or something new, does still 
disturb us. The air, the fire, the earth, and water 
are apter all to wound us. The frays, the trains, 
the incitements, the opportunity, the occasions 
of offence, the lures and temptings from abroad, 
and the businesses and accidents of life, deny us 
any safety, but what we have from the favor of 
protective Providence. 

Fellthnm. 



'; 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 93 

<W (MM first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave 

To do the like : our bodies but forerun 
The spirit's duty ; true hearts spread and heave 

Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun. 
Give Him thy first thoughts, then, so shalt thou keep 
Him company all day, and in Him sleep. 

Yet never sleep the sun up ; prayer should 
Dawn with the day : there are set awful hours 

'Twixt Heaven and us ; the manna was not good 
After sun-rising ; far day sullies flowers. 

Rise to prevent the sun ; sleep doth sins glut, 

And Heaven's gate opens when the world's is shut. 

Walk with thy fellow-creatures ; note the hush 
And whisperings amongst them. Not a spring 

Or leaf but hath his morning hymn ; each bush 
And oak doth know I Am. Canst thou not sing ? 

Oh, leave thy cares and follies ! Go this way, 

And thou art sure to prosper all the day. 

Serve God before the world ; let Him not go 
Until thou hast a blessing ; then resign 

The whole unto Him, and remember who 
Prevail'd by wrestling ere the sun did shine ; 

Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin, 

Then journey on, and have an eye to Heaven. 

When the world's up, and every swarm abroad, 
Keep well thy temper, mix not with each clay ; 

Dispatch necessities ; life hath a load 
Which must be carried on, and safely may ; 

Yet keep those cares without thee ; let the heart 

Be God's alone, and choose the better part. 

Vaughan. 

9 



194 ^ ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Jfiftl) JribciD- 



%\t Jibing of (lob's Jme. 



c^Vll night the lonely suppliant prayed, 
All night his earnest crying made ; 
Till, standing by his side at morn, 
The Tempter said in bitter scorn : — 
" Oh, peace ! what profit do you gain 
From empty words and babblings vain ? 
' Come, Lord — oh, come ! ' you cry alway ; 
You pour your heart out night and day ; 
Yet still no murmur of reply — 
No voice that answers, ' Here am I.' " 

Then sank that stricken heart in dust, 
That word had withered all its trust ; 
No strength retained it now to pray, 
For Faith and Hope had fled away. 
And ill that mourner now had fared, 
Thus by the Tempter's art ensnared, 
But that at length beside his bed 
His sorrowing angel stood, and said : — 
" Doth it repent thee of thy love, 
That never now is heard above 



* 



vmmmsxmm 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 1 95 

Thy prayer, that now not any more 
It knocks at heaven's gate as before ? " 

— " I am cast out — I find no place, 

No hearing at the throne of grace. 

* Come, Lord — oh, come ! ' I cry alway ; 

I pour my heart out night and day ; 

Yet never until now have won 

The answer — ' Here am I, my son.' " 

— Oh, dull of heart ! enclosed doth lie, 

In each ' Come, Lord,' a ' Here am I.' 

Thy love, thy longing, are not thine, 

Reflections of a love divine : 

Thy very prayer to thee was given, 

Itself a messenger from heaven. 

Whom God rejects, they are not so ; 

Strong hands are round them in their woe ; 

Their hearts are bound with bands of brass, 

That sigh or crying cannot pass. 

All treasures did the Lord impart 

To Pharaoh, save a contrite heart : 

All other gifts unto his foes 

He freely gives, nor grudging knows ; 

But Love's sweet smart, and costly pain, 

A treasure for his friends remain." 

Trench. 

|T the birth of our Saviour, the shep- 
herds heard the angelical and divine 
chants of those celestial spiritr. 
Scripture says so. It is not said, 
however, that the Blessed Virgin, 
and St. Joseph, who were nearest the Child, heard 




* 



I96 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

the voice of the angels, or saw those miraculous 
lights ; on the contrary, instead of hearing the 
angels sing, they heard the Infant cry, and saw, 
by some borrowed light, the eyes of that divine 
Infant all covered with tears, and chilled with the 
rigor of the cold. Now, I ask you in good faith, 
would you not have chosen to be in the stable, 
dark as it was, but resounding with the cries of 
that divine Infant, than to be with the shepherds, 
swooning with gladness and joy at the sweetness 
of that celestial music, and the beauty of that 
admirable light ? 

Yes ; it is good for us, said St. Peter, to be here, 
to see the transfiguration ; and the Blessed Vir- 
gin was not there, but only on the hill of Calvary, 
where she saw nothing but deaths, thorns, nails, 
weaknesses, marvellous darknesses, abandon- 
ments, and derelictions. Enough on this sub- 
ject. I pray you, love God crucified in the 
midst of darkness. Let us make here three 
tabernacles — one for our Lord, another for the 
Blessed Virgin, and another for St. John. Three 
crosses only ; and place yourself near that of the 
Son, or near that of the Virgin, or near that of 
the disciple, you will be everywhere welcome 
with the other daughters who are standing all 
around. 

St. Francis de Sales. 



BOBBSSKSBBSSSBBSaBi 



I* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 197 

j$01tl$ who sincerely love God are often, when 
still in the body, granted a near communion with 
His Presence ; but never is it enduring or com- 
plete. The Lord seems almost to be sporting 
with His children ; when they think to embrace 
Him firmly, He glides from their grasp, till again 
He is recalled by their tears and entreaties. 
Joyful, indeed, is His gracious presence ; so much 
the more grievous His absence. But what is 
the state of the soul if, when quite deprived of 
light from on high, it finds itself fast being en- 
tangled in the snares of a world of sense ? Does 
it not appear as if exiled from its native land, 
banished to a distant shore, where love grows 
cold, sensuality reigns, and the eye of the under- 
standing is darkened ? There it mourns in an- 
guish, heaving deep and bitter sighs ; so much 
the more richly it has received, so much the 
greater now the deprivation. Starvation over- 
powers the loving soul when its necessary food 
— the object of devotion — is withdrawn. Vain is 
it to seek to alleviate grief such as this by the 
application of any external means ; vain to en- 
deavor to hush such sorrow. With Job it 
despises such " miserable comforters," and ex- 
claims, with the Psalmist, " My soul refuses to be 
comforted." Only from within can these wounds 
be healed. Blessed, indeed, is that sorrow which 



198 A EOS ART FOE LENT. 

does not lament over the miseries of this life, 
which relates not to the creature but the Creator. 
Others derive consolation from the fugitive 
things of time ; the loving soul alone requires 
none but the fulness of Him who dwells within 
— the God of love. For though hidden, He is 
yet present ; and though concealed for the time, 
it is but for the better perfecting of the Spirit. 

Richards. 



m*f<&mimn^mr 'mmmu \Wf\mtnmitrmtPUttAi wm— iiiimffrwi *j< 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



199 



jftftt) 0atutfmg. 



&\t pmisiers of (§oVb Woxb. 



W\\t holy Lenten time is now far spent ; 

And from the muffled altars everywhere, 

Full many a warning voice has bid, prepare 
The Lord's highway, and cried aloud, Repent ! 
And be your hearts and not your garments rent ; 

And turn unto the Lord, your God, with prayer. 
Not, as aforetime, are the contrite sent 

To sackcloth, ashes, and the shirt of hair, 

Or knotted thong ; but consciences laid bare, 
And lowly minds, and knees in secret bent, 
And fasts in spirit, mark the penitent. 

Let not the broken-hearted then despair ; 
The sighs of those who worthily lament 

Their sins, reach Heaven, and are accepted there. 

Croswell, 

WOULD have you, moreover, give 
great honor to those who announce 
to us the word of God : we cer- 
tainly are under a great obligation 
to do so ; for they are heavenly 
messengers, who come on God's part to teach us 




* 



200 A EOSAEY FOR LENT. 

the way of salvation. We ought to regard them 
as such, and not as mere men ; for, although 
they speak not with the eloquence of heavenly 
men, we must not on that account abate aught of 
that humility and reverence with which we are 
bound to accept the Word of God, which is 
always the same — as pure and as holy as if it 
were spoken and delivered by angels. 

I observe that if I write to a friend on bad 
paper, and consequently with bad handwriting, 
I am thanked as affectionately for my letter as 
if I wrote on better paper, and with the finest 
characters in the world. And why is this, but 
because my friend does not care about the paper 
or the handwriting being bad, but only cares 
about the writer ? 

We ought to act in the same way with regard 
to the word of God. We must not consider who 
it is that is preaching to us ; it ought to be 
enough for us that God makes use of this 
preacher to proclaim His word to us ; and since 
we see that God honors him so much as to speak 
by his mouth, how can we fail in respecting and 
honoring him ! 

St. Francis de Sales. 



$hflU(}ft preaching, in its elocutive part, be but 
the conception of man, and differs as the gifts 



ntp-mwtMusa 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 201 

and abilities of men give it lustre or depression ; 
and many hearers, for their knowledge, are able 
to instruct their teachers ; yet, as it puts us in 
mind of our duties that may perhaps be out of 
our thoughts, and as it is the ordinance of God, 
and may quicken and enliven our conversation, 
we owe it both our reverence and attention. 
And though we may think our education and 
parts have set us in a higher form than it hath 
done him that does ascend the pulpit ; yet with- 
out a derogation to our own endowments, as in 
other arts, so in that of divinity, we may well 
conceive, he that makes it his trade and calling 
should better understand it, and is likely to be 
more perfect in it, than he that hath inspection 
therein but by the by and obviously. Arts per- 
fecl: are by exercise and industry. A man is 
born a child, and does by tendance and improving 
time creep up to full maturity ; so arts at first 
are infant things, till, filed and garnished, they 
burnish out in perfection. Even in matter-of- 
fact, they have easier and nearer ways to do 
things who, with assiduity and practice, are still 
intent upon them, than can by those be thought 
on that are strangers to the profession. 

And these considerations may certainly con- 
tent us to hear sometimes the meaner-parted 
preach. The Apostle allows it the foolishness 



^mtuMwmaBBaammmamm 



rwrinr"— ""* 



202 A BOSABY FOB LENT. 

of preaching ; yet it was the way that peopled 
all the world with Christianity. It bruised the 
staunch philosopher, and brought the wilful 
pagan off from all his idols. It topped the soar- 
ing eagle with the cross, and bowed the lofty 
conqueror to his knee and tears. And what 
know we but sometimes our corruptions may be 
let out by a poor brass pin, as well as by the 
dexterous hand that guides a silver lancet. He 
that is our spiritual physician is not confined to 
any certain instrument that he will use to cure 
us with ; and if we, out of copper, lead, or pewter 
preaching, can extract pure gold, I take it is no 
impeachment to our wise philosophy. Surely 
they are not right, that because they cannot hear 
such as they would, will therefore come at none. 
I will hear a good one if I can ; but rather hear 
an easy one than not to hear at all. He aban- 
dons his cure that refuses to come at his chirur- 
geon. 

That cloth can never be white that lies where 
dews do never fall upon it. I observe those that 
leave the church assemblies, so they be not here- 
tical, do grow at last to leave religion too. The 
righteous man, by the unwise actions of others, 
does grow wiser ; even out of weakness he can 
gather strength. Now, the great King of heaven 
entertains not fools for His followers ; if they be 



A EOS ART FOE LENT. 



203 



not wise before they come, yet they are wise in 
coming ; and then, for that, He makes them so for 
ever after. It is a prerogative belongs to His ser- 
vants ; those that pay Him their obedience He 
does reward with wisdom and understanding. It 
was by keeping His commandments that David's 
wisdom did exceed his teachers' ! He that hath 
wisdom to be truly religious, cannot be condemn- 
edly a fool. Every precept of Christianity is a 
maxim of profoundest prudence. It is the gos- 
pel's work to reduce man to the principles of his 
first creation ; that is, to be both good and wise. 
Our ancestors, it seems, were clear of this opi- 
nion. He that was pious and just was reckoned 
a righteous man. Godliness and integrity was 
called and counted righteousness. And in their 
old Saxon-English, " righteous " was " right- 
wise," and " righteousness " was originally " right- 
wiseness." It is the fear of God that is the 
beginning of wisdom ; and all that seek it have a 
good understanding. It is to be presumed the 
merchant that sold all to buy the pearl, was as 
well wise as rich. Those, therefore, that with- 
draw from the means altogether, which, in ordi- 
nary, is preaching, or are long livers under it 
unprofitably, by degrees grow strangers to it, and 
dislike it. 

It is an aphorism in physic, that they who, in 



unw—wpi 



Z®4 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

the beginning of diseases, eat much and mend 
not, fall at last to a general loathing of food. 
The moral is as true in divinity. He that hath 
a sick conscience, and lives a hearer under a 
fruitful ministry, if he grow not sound, he will 
learn to despise the Word. When food converts 
not into nourishment, it will not be long be- 
fore the body languisheth. Blessings neglected 
in the van, do troop in curses in the rear and 
sequel ; but when contemned, vengeance. Who 
neglects the good he may have, shall find the 
evil that he would avoid. Justly he sits in dark- 
ness, that would not light his taper when the 
fire burned clearly. Offers of mercy slighted, 
prepare the way for judgments. We deeply 
charge ourselves ; yet are we more uncapable of 
clearing our accounts. He that needs counsel, 
and will not deign to lend a listening ear, destines 
himself to misery, and is the willing author of his 
own sad woe. Continue at a stay, we cannot ; 
corruption neither mends itself, nor leaves to be 
so till it bring destruction. The fire followed 
Lot's neglected preaching. Capernaum's fate 
was heavier for her miracles. Desperate is his 
estate that hates the thing should help him. If 
ever you see a drowning man refuse help, con- 
clude him a wilful murderer. When God offers 
more than He is obliged to, we ought by all the 



^ mam ^ m *^***Bmmamm mmn m ili um ijgEreaaaaiMnMMEE i mhwim i j i iuii'mwjj »|« 



EEEsmmessa 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 205 

ways we can to meet so glorious mercies. To 
the burying of such treasures there belongs a 
curse ; to their misspending, punishment and 
confusion. 

Felltham. 



gf Ujw()[£ not the preacher ; for he is thy judge : 
If thou mislike him, thou conceivest him not. 
God calleth preaching, folly. Do not grudge 
To pick out treasures from an earthen pot. 

The worst speak something good : if all want sense, 
God takes a text, and preacheth patience. 

Herbert. 



|JJJ sermon, the good parishioner sets himself to 
hear God in the minister. Therefore divesteth 
he himself of all prejudice, the jaundice in the 
eyes of the soul, presenting colors false unto it. 
He hearkens very attentively. 'Tis a shame 
when the church itself is " ccemeterium ; " 
wherein the living sleep above ground, as the 
dead do beneath. 

At every point that concerns himself, he turns 
down a leaf in his heart, and rejoiceth that God's 
Word hath pierced him ; as hoping that whilst 
his soul smarts, it heals. And as it is no man- 



Mil 



206 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



ners for him that hath good venison before 
him to ask whence it came, but rather fairly to 
fall to it ; so, hearing an excellent sermon, he 
never inquires whence the preacher had it, or 
whether it was not before in print, but falls 
aboard to practise it. 

Fuller. 



*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



207 



I 



jfiftl) 0unbat3. 



g, f orb's fag. 



CD day of rest and gladness, 

O day of joy and light, 
O balm of care and sadness, 

Most beautiful, most bright ; 
On thee, the high and lowly, 

Through ages joined in tune, 
Sing, Holy, Holy, Holy, 

To the great God Triune. 

On thee, at the creation, 

The Light had first its birth ; 
On thee, for our salvation, 

Christ rose from depths of earth ; 
On thee, our Lord victorious 

The Spirit sent from heaven, 
And thus, on thee most glorious, 

A triple light was given. 



208 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Thou art a port protected 

From storms that round us rise ; 
A garden intersected 

With streams of paradise ; 
Thou art a cooling fountain, 

In life's dry, dreary sand ; 
From thee, like Pisgah's mountain, 

We view our promised land. 

Thou art a holy ladder, 

Where angels go and come ; 
Each Sunday finds us gladder, 

Nearer to Heaven, our home. 
A day of sweet refection 

Thou art, a day of love, 
A day of resurrection 

From earth to things above. 

To-day on weary nations 

The heavenly Manna falls ; 
To holy convocations 

The silver trumpet calls ; 
Where Gospel light is glowing 

With pure and radiant beams, 
And living water flowing 

With soul-refreshing streams. 

New graces ever gaining, 
From this, our day of rest, 

We reach the rest remaining 
To spirits of the blest ; 

To Holy Ghost be praises, 
To Father and to Son ; 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 209 

The Church her voice upraises 
To Thee, blest Three in One. 



Dr. Wordsworth. 



St. John ix. 16. 




HIS man is not of God, because he 
keepeth not the Sabbath day." 

And what, think ye, had "this 
man," the man Christ Jesus, done 
on that holy day, that the general 
charge of Sabbath-breaking should be preferred 
against Him, and His divine mission denied ? 
Wherein had He failed to leave an example 
which we, in our measure, should sedulously 
strive to imitate, as we " daily endeavor ourselves 
to follow the blessed steps of His most holy life ?" 
It was in regard, indeed, of a single act then 
performed, the opening of the eyes of a man 
blind from his birth, that the charge was made ; 
a miracle else unwrought since the world began, 
the creative a6l that gave sight for the first time 
to the wayside beggar, recorded in the introduc- 
tory part of the chapter from which the text is 
taken. 

But great and memorable as was this act, it 
was but a single one of many deeds ; the words 
spoken by Him when effecting it were exceeding 
few in comparison of the multitude of His other 
words then uttered, the colloquies and discourses 



isaatc 



W6SEB 



2IO A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

with which he for ever distinguished the day ; 
apparently but a few moments of a completely 
occupied Sabbath were employed in giving sight 
to the man blind from his birth. 

The history of no other Sabbath in our Lord's 
life would seem to be so amply detailed as this. 
Most probably all that we read in the eighth, 
ninth, and to the nineteenth verse of the tenth 
chapter of St. John's Gospel, took place on one 
and the same day. With that day are to be 
associated Christ's last public, and so important 
discourses and colloquies concerning His nature 
and office ; His cure of the blind man, His mild 
and merciful judgment of the adulteress, and 
undoubted remission of her sin ; His confound- 
ing of the hypocritical Pharisees, His eluding 
their attempted stoning of Him, and His pre- 
sence, as a matter of course, once and again in 
the Temple. On the evening preceding this 
Sabbath He had withdrawn from the confusion 
and revelry of the city (the season was a festal 
one) to the privacy and sanctity of the Mount of 
Olives. Whether it was in regard of the com- 
ing day, as though He would Himself, in His 
own case, make some previous preparation for 
the meeter hallowing of the Sabbath ; or, as 
indicating that on our part there should be some 
such preparation, we can only conjecture. We 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 211 

are told that " early in the morning He came 
again into the Temple." From the word 
employed, and from what subsequently follows, 
it is evident that the hour of His return was, 
indeed, a very early one. He did not come long 
after the assembling of the worshippers, when 
the priests were already engaged in offering 
sacrifice ; when the smoke of the incense was 
ascending on every side ; when the voice of 
supplication and prayer was heard ; when trum- 
pet, and psaltery, and harp, with psalms and 
hymns, were making melody unto the Lord ; or 
during the reading and exposition of the Law 
and the Prophets. No ! It was at the breaking 
of the day, or between that hour and sunrise, 
that He came again into the Temple ; and surely 
his followers there might well seek to be as early 
as the hour appointed. 

We next read that He employed the early 
morning hour in teaching the multitude. It was 
probably while thus engaged that the self-con- 
stituted court of Scribes and Pharisees brought 
to Him the woman taken in adultery. It was in 
the Sanctuary, and on the Sabbath, that the mild 
and merciful Jesus spake peace and pardon, even 
to such a sinner. Surely we shall be following 
the Saviour's example, if we aim to hallow this 
day by a judgment of the amplest charity in re- 



1 1 imi ii mm 



.* 



212 A BO SAB Y FOB LENT. 

gard of all men. His subsequent colloquy with 
the Pharisees was broken up by their attempt to 
stone Him, as He affirmed His unbeginning ex- 
istence ere yet Abraham was born. Escaping 
miraculously their intended violence, the next 
scene in which the Saviour appears is that of His 
giving sight to the blind man, whom, at the close 
of the day, and probably in the Temple, He meets, 
and whose imperfect faith He rewards by reveal- 
ing Himself to him as the Son of God. With 
the discourse commencing at the thirty-ninth 
verse of the ninth chapter, and ending with the 
eighteenth verse of the tenth chapter of St. John, 
our Lord, as it would appear, closed this memo- 
rable day. As if indeed to render it " a day of 
rest and gladness," did our gracious Lord also 
associate Himself with it, in declaring Himself 
the true and ever-open door of the Heavenly 
fold ; the only Shepherd who in the cloudy and 
dark day could gather to Himself the diseased 
and the broken, the lost and the driven away. 

But it is most noticeable and suggestive that 
subsequently the theme of the same discourse 
is renewed ; that what was done, and begun, and 
said on this day, was not then brought to a full and 
final conclusion. Reverently, and for our own 
sake be it said, that our Lord's Sabbaths were 
not days of isolation, days that stood in entire 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 21 3 

disassociation with all other days. No ; the dis- 
course then begun was not then altogether 
ended ; the work then commenced was not then, 
as a matter of course, completed. With these 
days all other days were bound as in indissoluble 
links. And should it be otherwise with us ? On 
this day should we not gather heavenly manna 
for all the week ? Should our Sundays be days 
of entire isolation, days whose seed and flower 
fail to fructify through all the week ? Surely of 
our Sundays it may well be said : 

" Nothing that altogether dies 
Suffices man's just destinies ; 
So should we live that every hour 
May die as dies the natural flower, 
A self-reviving thing of power ; 
That every thought and every deed, 
May hold within itself the seed 
Of future good and future meed." 

From this imperfect sketch of one of our 
Lord's Sabbaths, there is surely something for 
each one to gather for his good ; whether it be 
in regard of previous preparation, or early and 
diligent use of the day, or charitable judgment, 
or employment of every possible means of grace ? 
or the act of beneficence, or contemplation of 
Christ in His more glorious and cheering aspects, 



* 



'umitHrnq 



214 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

or in the purpose and endeavor that the day be 
indeed but the first day of the week, the day 
whose influence is surely to pervade and sanctify 
the entire six that follow. 

Let us but endeavor in some one, or in all of 
these respects, to make our Lord and Master our 
example ; then will indeed our Sundays become — 

" Bright shadows of true rest ! Some shoots of blisse ; 
Heaven once a week : 
The next world's gladness prepossest in this : 

A day to seek 
Eternity in time : the steps by which 
We climb above all ages ; Lamps that light 
Man through his heape of dark dayes ; and the rich 
And full redemption of the whole week's flight. 
The milky way chalked out with suns, a clue 
That guides through erring hours, and in full story 
A taste of heaven on earth ; the pledge and cue 
Of a full feast ; and the outcourts of glory." 

Rev. G. H. Houghton. 






-* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



215 



ifxftl) iHonbay. 



djnietos anh Confibenxe. 



&ftCW is a safe and secret place 

Beneath the wings divine, 
Reserved for all the heirs of grace ; 

Oh, be that refuge mine ! 

The least and feeblest there may bide, 

Uninjured and unawed ; 
While thousands fall on every side, 

He rests secure in God. 

The angels watch him on his way, 
And aid with friendly arm ; 

And Satan, roaring for his prey, 
May hate, but cannot harm. 

He feeds in pastures large and fair, 

Of love and truth divine ; 
O child of God, O glory's heir, 

How rich a lot is thine ! 



— b 



2l6 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 




A hand Almighty to defend, 

An ear for every call, 
An honored life, a peaceful end, 

And Heaven to crown it all. 

Henry Francis Lyte. 

|UT it is necessary for me to speak to 
you a little, heart to heart, and to 
tell you that whoever has a true 
desire of serving our Lord, and ot 
flying from sin, ought in nowise to 
torture himself with the fear of death, or of the 
Divine judgments. For although both the one 
and the other are indeed to be feared, still the 
fear ought not to be mere physical alarm, crush- 
ing the vigor of our minds ; on the contrary, it 
ought to be so mingled with confidence in the 
goodness of God, as to become sweet in conse- 
quence of it. 

And we ought not to begin to doubt whether 
we are in a position to confide in God, when we 
feel difficulty in keeping ourselves from sin, or 
have mistrust and fear, lest in particular occa- 
sions and temptations we shall be unable to re- 
sist it. Oh, no ! for mistrust of our own strength 
is not a deficiency of resolution, but a true ac- 
knowledgment of our misery. It is a better feel- 
ing to mistrust our own power of resisting temp- 
tations than to assume a confident attitude, pro- 



*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 21 7 

vided always that what we do not expect from 
our own strength we do expecl from the grace 
of God. For it has frequently happened that 
persons who, in the midst of consolation, pro- 
mised themselves that they would do marvels for 
God, have failed when put to the trial ; and others 
again, who greatly mistrusted their own strength, 
and feared much that they would fail when put 
to the proof, have, on a sudden, effected marvels, 
because that deep feeling of their own weakness 
drove them to seek aid and succor from God, to 
watch, to pray, to humiliate themselves, that they 
might not enter into temptation. 

I further say, that we ought in nowise to be 
distressed at not feeling within us force or cou- 
rage to resist temptation, in the supposition of its 
occurrence at this moment, if only we desire to 
resist it, hoping that, if it did come, God would 
help us, and praying of Him to grant us His help. 
For there is no need for us always to have the 
sensation of strength and courage ; it is enough 
for us to hope and desire that we shall have it at 
the right time and place ; nor is there any need 
for us to feel within ourselves any sign or mark 
that we shall have that courage ; it is sufficient 
for us to hope that God will aid us. 

Samson, who was called the strong man, never 
felt the supernatural strength with which God 

10 



* 



2lS A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

assisted him, except on occasions for it ; and on 
that account it is said, when encountering lions 
or his enemies, that the Spirit of God came upon 
him. 

God, who does nothing in vain, does not give 
you either strength or courage when there is no 
occasion for it, but only when there is occasion ; 
and so we must always hope that on all occa- 
sions He will aid us, provided only that we cry 
unto Him. We should constantly use those 
words of David : " Why art thou sad, O my soul ? 
and why dost thou disquiet me ? Hope in God." 
And again : " When my strength shall fail, do not 
Thou forsake me." 

Well, then, since you desire to depend entirely 
on God, why do you fear your weakness, on which 
it is very true that you ought to place no kind of 
reliance ? Do you not hope in God ? and shall 
he that hopeth in Him ever be confounded ? No, 
he never shall be. 

I entreat you to pacify all the objections which 
may possibly arise in your mind. There is no 
occasion to make any other answer to them, 
except that you desire to be faithful on all occa- 
sions ; and that you hope God will enable you to 
be so, without attempting to find out whether 
that will be the case or not ; for, such attempts 
are very liable to deceive you. Many are valiant 



SB 



'* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 219 

when they do not see the enemy, who are not so 
when he appears ; whilst, on the contrary, many 
are fearful beforehand, to whom the very presence 
of the danger gives courage. You must not fear 
being afraid. 

St. Francis de Sales. 



miukwjmHu.giu.jji.u-i.nji 



■S3 



220 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Mil) ®ues5ag. 



<wit£tt££ this pleasing hope, this fond desire, 

This longing after immortality ? 

Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, 

Of falling into naught ? Why shrinks the soul 

Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 

'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 

'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter, 

And intimates eternity to man. 

A ddison. 



AN, although not yet lord of the 
visible universe as an adult, is lord 
of it as an heir, and exercises an 
authority becoming the minority 
of one for whom vast possessions 
are in reserve. This is not the language of 




A ROSARY FOR LENT. 221 

empty pretension ; modern science and art make 
good, in detail, all that is here affirmed at large. 

But, as we go deeper and deeper into the 
recesses of our nature, and duly consider the dig- 
nity and the powers of the moral life, and the vast 
compass of the affections, we shall feel, in far 
greater force, the truth — a truth of unbounded im- 
port, that the most excellent forms of matter are as 
nothing in comparison with the worth and destinies 
of the spirit. The affections of the spirit, and their 
power of intimate communion with the Infinite 
spirit, not only raise the mind immeasurably 
above the level of the visible world, and carry it 
clear of the fate of that world, but raise it even 
above the range of the merely intellectual facul- 
ties, so that a state may be conceived of far 
better and higher than that of the highest exer- 
cise of reason. 

In truth, what is it that leads us to attach the 
value we do attach to intellectual labor and 
achievement ? Not the mere practical result of 
those engagements ; not the mere labor, in itself 
considered ; but the emotion, the sentiment, the 
moral power, connected with it, and by which it 
is prompted, animated, and rewarded. Within 
the entire circle of our intellectual constitution 
we value nothing but emotion ; it is not the 
powers, or the exercise of the powers, but the 



'■ 



222 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

fruit of those powers, in so much feeling, of a 
lofty kind, as they will yield. Now, that towards 
which we are constantly tending, as our goal — 
that which we rest in when it is attained as 
sufficient — is that which shall be ultimate, and 
shall survive whatever has been mediate, or con- 
tributory, or accessary. Everything short of the 
affections of the soul is a means to an end, and 
must have its season ; it is temporary ; but the 
affections of the soul are the end of all, and they 
are eternal. Let the universe perish, or be 
changed, the soul shall live. 

Taylor. 



|ft is certain man hath a soul, and as certain 
that it is immortal. But what and how it is, in 
the perfect nature and substance of it, I confess 
my human reason could never so inform me, as 
I could fully explain it to my own apprehension. 
O my God ! what a clod of moving ignorance is 
man ! When all his industry cannot instruct 
him what himself is ; when he knows not that 
whereby he knows that he does not know it. 
Let him study, and think, and invent, and search 
the very inwards of obscured nature, he is yet to 
seek how to define this inexplicable, immortal, 
incorporeal wonder, this ray of Thee, this emana- 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 223 

tion of Thy deity. Let it, then, be sufficient that 
God hath given me a soul, and that my eternal 
welfare depends upon it, though He be not 
accountable either how I had it, or what it is. 
I think both Seneca and Cicero say truest, when 
they are of opinion that man cannot know what 
the soul is. Nor, indeed, need any man wonder 
at it ; since he may know whatsoever is created 
by a superior power suffers a composure, but 
cannot know it, because it was done before itself 
was. Man, though he hath materials, cannot make 
anything that can either know how it was made, 
or what it is, being made ; yet it is without 
defect, in respect of the end it is intended for. 
How then can man think to know himself, when 
both his materials and composure are both created 
and formed by a Supreme Power that did it 
without co-operation ? Why should I strive to 
know that which I know I cannot know ? Can 
a man dissect an atom ? can he grasp a flame ? 
or hold and seize on lightnings ? I am sure 
I have a soul, and am commanded to keep it 
from sin. O Thou, the God of that little god 
within me — my soul ! let me do that, and I know 
Thou art not such an enemy to ignorance in man, 
but that Thou art better pleased with his admira- 
tion of Thy secrets, than his search of them. 

Fellthant. 



* 



224 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Sh-tl) toebnesbag. 



(®nc Jlotk nnb oite |%p|jerb. 



<^0Ul# of men ! why will ye scatter 
Like a crowd of frightened sheep ? 

Foolish hearts ! why will ye wander 
From a love so true and deep ? 

Was there ever kindest shepherd — 
Half so gentle, half so sweet 

As the Saviour who would have us, 
Come and gather round His feet ? 

It is God : His love looks mighty, 
But is mightier than it seems ; 

'Tis our Father : and His fondness 
Goes far out beyond our dreams. 

There's a wideness in God's mercy, 
Like the wideness of the sea ; 

There's a kindness in His justice, 
Which is more than liberty. 



■ntifTumnM 



*l 



A EOS ART FOB LENT. 

There is no place where earth's sorrows 
Are more felt than up in heaven ; 

There is no place where earth's failings 
Have such kindly judgment given. 

There is welcome for the sinner, 
And more graces for the good ! 

There is mercy with the Saviour ; 
There is healing in His blood. 

There is grace enough for thousands 
Of new worlds as great as this ; 

There is room for fresh creations 
In that upper home of bliss. 

For the love of God is broader 

Than the measures of man's mind : 

And the heart of the Eternal 
Is most wonderfully kind. 

But we make His love too narrow 

By false limits of our own ; 
And we magnify His strictness 

With a zeal He will not own. 

There is plentiful redemption 
In the blood that has been shed ; 

There is joy for all the members 
In the sorrows of the Head. 

'Tis not all we owe to Jesus ; 

It is something more than all ; 
Greater good because of evil, 

Larger mercy through the fall. 



225 



taa 



asm 



*■*!« 



226 



A BOS ART FOR LENT. 



Pining souls ! come nearer Jesus, 
And oh come not doubting thus, 

But with faith that trusts more bravely, 
His huge tenderness for us. 

If our love were but more simple, 
We should take Him at His word ; 

And our lives would be all sunshine 
In the sweetness of our Lord. 



Faber. 




g|iVZ> other sheep I have ; have already, 
in fore-knowledge and purpose ; 
which are not of this fold, this 
nation of Israel, to which the min- 
istry of Christ, while Himself upon 
earth, was to be limited. 

Them, also, must I bring : must, because so it 
is written of me ; must, because My love, even as 
that of the Father who sent Me, is not bounded 
by local or national restrictions ; must, because 
God so loved the world, that He gave His only be- 
gotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should 
not perish, but have everlasting life. Them, also, 
must I bring : I ; for, if I do not, none else can : 
the work of saving one soul, as well as that of 
gathering together in one the children of God that 
are scattered abroad, is beyond the power of any 
human messenger, and, except I work, from hea- 
ven, in the hearts of them that hear, no one man 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 227 

to the very end of time can be turned from dark- 
ness to light. Them, also, must I bring ; bring : 
leading, not driving them ; drawing them gently 
forward, by the persuasion of my Spirit within, 
out of the vast wilderness of sin and self into the 
green pastures and beside the still waters, out of 
the wretchedness of a life of cares and vanities 
into the joy and peace which belong to my re- 
deemed. 

And they shall hear My voice. They shall re- 
cognise, one after another, in distant lands, in 
successive generations, the voice which addresses 
them as they are, and which offers them what 
they want ; the voice which speaks the universal 
language, touches the universal wound, and heals 
the universal woe ; the voice which, whosoever 
hears within, finds himself at once calmed, eman- 
cipated, and illuminated ; the voice which, whoso- 
ever patiently follows, will find himself led onward 
from strength to strength by a wisdom not his 
own into a happiness of which he dreamed not. 

And there shall be one flock, one Shepherd. One 
flock, consisting of all those who accept Christ 
as their Saviour, under one Shepherd, that Saviour 
who casts out none that come to Him. 

My brethren, no passages of Scripture ought 
to be more attractive to us than those which, 
like this, show that our Lord Himself had from 



228 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

the very first our particular case in view. It 
was no after-thought — still less was it an acci- 
dent — but a plan arranged by Him, and declared 
from the beginning, which brought the Gentiles, 
which brought us of this land and age, into the 
flock and fold of Christ. Of us He thought 
when He was upon earth ; for us He has made 
provision from His throne in heaven : in our be- 
half He sent forth that great company of the 
preachers, spoken of in the language of prophecy, 
which has been ever since gathering new gene- 
rations and new races into the gospel fold : in 
our behalf He Himself uttered that memorable 
prayer in the same night in which He was be- 
trayed : Neither pray I for these, My first disci- 
ples, alo7ie, but for them also which shall believe 
on Me through their word ; that they all may be 
one, as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee ; 
that they also may be one in Us ; that the world 
may believe that Thou hast sent Me. 

One flock, one Shepherd. Yes, such was Christ's 
will and Christ's promise. That they also may 
be one in Us. Yes, such was Christ's prayer and 
Christ's ordinance. Has it been fulfilled ? Is it 
in course of fulfilment ? Yes ; that also we 
doubt not. But to look on, from the level of 
earth and of things present, upon the community 
of His professed people, we might well ask, where 



warn 



►£«■ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 229 

is the sign of unity ? Where is the one flock ? 
where is the one Shepherd ? where is the saying, 
That they all may be one ? It is sad to see divi- 
sions where there ought to be peace ; men be- 
lieving in one Saviour, seeking one rest and one 
home, and yet all differing about the means by 
which that end is to be won ! Let us be careful 
not to add to such divisions. Let us be resolute 
to see Christ's people in all who own Him as 
their Saviour. Let us never doubt that there 
may be a unity of spirit in diversity of form, 
even as there certainly may be a diversity of 
spirit in unity of form. They shall hear My voice. 
Let that be for ourselves ; let that be (so far as 
it is necessary) for others our test of unity. 
Are we, are they, listening to Christ's voice, and 
living, day by day, as He taught, as He teaches ? 
Are we, are they, fearing God, and working 
righteousness ? Are we, are they, doing all that 
can be done to set forward holiness and godli- 
ness on this sinful earth ? Are we, are they, 
acknowledging Christ's Word as the rule of 
faith, and Christ's example as the rule of prac- 
tice ? Then are we already one in Him. Then 
we may be quite sure that, whatever differences 
of form may seem to divide us, these belong rather 
to the circumstances amidst which, than to the 
spirit in which, we are living here below. If in 



mm 



2$0 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

anything we be otherwise minded, God shall reveal 
even this unto yon. Many things which now ap- 
pear to us to be almost or quite essential to Chris- 
tianity may hereafter perhaps fall off from us as 
we pass through the dark river, or through the 
golden gates beyond. Let us all hold the head, 
derive every day our own strength and grace 
from Him, and, be well assured, we shall find 
ourselves at last, much, it may be, to our surprise, 
to have been all one in Christ yesus. 

Vaughan. 



+ 



*' 



* 



A EOS ART FOE LENT. 



231 



Stett) Styurs&ag- 



frtmble Utalkmg* 



Q)lX f how the thought of God attracts 
And draws the heart from earth, 

And sickens it of passing shows 
And dissipating mirth ! 

'Tis not enough to save our souls, 

To shun the eternal fires ; 
The thought of God will rouse the heart 

To more sublime desires. 

God only is the creature's home, 
Though rough and strait the road ; 

Yet nothing less can satisfy 
The love that longs for God. 

Oh, utter but the name of God 
Down in your heart of hearts, 

And see how from the world at once 
All tempting light departs. 



* 



232 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

A trusting heart, a yearning eye, 
Can win their way above ; 

If mountains can be moved by faith, 
Is there less power in love ? 

How little of that road, my soul ! 

How little hast thou gone! 
Take heart, and let the thought of God 

Allure thee further on. 

' The freedom from all wilful sin, 
The Christian's daily task, — 
Oh, these are graces far below 
What longing love would ask. 

Dole not thy duties out to God, 

But let thy hand be free ; 
Look long at Jesus ; His sweet blood, 

How was it dealt to thee ? 

The perfect way is hard to flesh ; 

It is not hard to lose ; 
If thou wert sick for want of God, 

How swiftly wouldst thou move. 

Good is the cloister's silent shade, 
Cold watch and pining fast ; 

Better the mission's wearing strife, 
If there thy lot be cast. 

Yet none of these perfection needs : — 
Keep thy heart calm all day, 

And catch the words the Spirit there 
From hour to hour may say. 




A ROSARY FOR LENT. 233 

Then keep thy conscience sensitive ; 

No inward token miss : 
And go where grace entices thee ; 

Perfection lies in this. 

Be docile to thine unseen Guide, 

Love Him as He loves thee ; 
Time and obedience are enough, 

And thou a saint shalt be. 

Faber. 

E may very rightly make simple 
wishes, which witness to our gra- 
titude. I may say, alas ! why am I 
not as fervent as the seraphim, the 
better to serve and love my God ? 
But I must not amuse myself with forming de- 
sires, as if in this world I was to attain to that 
exquisite perfection ; or say, I desire this ; I 
will set myself to attain it, and if I fail of 
reaching it, I shall be unhappy. I do not say 
that we ought not to put ourselves in the 
path of such perfections, only we must not 
desire to reach it in one day ; that is to say, 
in one day of this mortal life ; for this desire 
would be a torment to us, and a most useless 
one. 

It is necessary, in order to travel well, for us 
to attend to the accomplishment of that part of 
the journey which is immediately before us, to 



234 ^ BOS ART FOR LEFT. 

get over the first day's ground, and not to amuse 
ourselves with desiring to accomplish the last 
day's journey when our business is to make an 
end of the first. I will express it in one word, 
which I beg you to bear in mind : we sometimes 
amuse ourselves with the idea of being good 
angels when we are not laboring to make our- 
selves even good men. 

Our imperfections must accompany us to the 
grave. We cannot walk without touching the 
earth. We ought not to lie and welter there ; 
but we also ought not to think of flying ; we are, 
as yet, unfledged. We die little by little ; we 
must, therefore, make our imperfections die with 
us day by day. Dear imperfections ! which 
make us recognise our misery, exercise us in 
humility, in contempt of ourselves, in patience 
and diligence, and in spite of which God considers 
that preparation of our heart which is perfect. 

Earth as we are, let us walk on earth, since 
the deep sea turns our head and makes us reel. 
Let us remain at our Lord's feet with Mary ; let 
us practise those little virtues which are adapted 
to our littleness ; and there are virtues that are 
exercised rather in descending than in ascending, 
the better for our weakness. Such are patience, 
the bearing with our neighbor, and doing him 
service, humility, sweetness, courage, affability, 



*■ 



— * 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 2$$ 

the endurance of our imperfections, and other 
little virtues like them. 

I do not say that we are not to ascend by 
means of prayer ; but it must be step by step. 
I recommend to you holy simplicity. Look close 
before you, and do not look at those dangers 
which you see afar off. You fancy they are 
armies ; they are only trees in the distance, and 
while you are gazing at them you may make 
some false steps. 

Let us have a form and general purpose of 
intending to serve God with all our heart and all 
our life ; and this done, let us not think of the 
morrow. Let us only think of achieving the 
present day well ; and when to-morrow shall 
have arrived, it too will be called to-day, and then 
we shall think of it. Besides this, it is necessary 
that we have a great confidence in the providence 
of God, and a resignation to it. We must make 
provision of manna for each day, and no more ; 
and let us have no doubts ; God will rain manna 
to-morrow, and the day after to-morrow, and all 
the days of our pilgrimage. 

•SV. Francis de Sales. 



^jtWtU experience I have learned that nothing is 
so effectual for the reception of grace, for its 



►|*K» 



236 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

preservation, and for its restoration, as to walk 
humbly before God, to be not high-minded, and 
continually to distrust ourselves. Fear thyself 
if grace look lovingly upon thee ; fear thyself if 
it depart ; fear thyself if it yet again return. 
When it is with thee, tremble lest thou drive it 
from thee ; should it leave thee, tremble yet 
more, lest, deprived of its merciful aid, thou thy- 
self shouldst fall ; this may too quickly befall 
thee, for thy protection has forsaken thee. And 
doubt not that thy pride is the cause, even 
though it were not apparent — even though thou 
wert all unconscious. For what thou knowest 
not, God knoweth. Shall He who giveth grace 
to the humble, take it from the humble ? There- 
fore the withdrawal of grace proves thy pride. 
If it be restored thee, must thou yet more fear 
lest thou again fall. Therefore fear God at all 
times, and with thy whole heart ; God desires a 
a free gift, the whole will, a perfect sacrifice. 
Thou canst not at the same time fear thyself, and 
yet entertain lofty thoughts of thine own excel- 
lences. For when thou forsakest pride, then 
only knowest thou the fear of the Lord, and only 
he that fears himself can taste the joy of love. 

Bernard. 



■* 



A BOSABT FOB LENT. 



237 



®lt£ righteous is as a tree planted by the water- 
side. Where flow streams ? Through the low 
lands and valleys. Choose then a valley for thy 
pilgrimage, a valley for thy plantation. On the 
mountain it is stern and rugged ; on the moun- 
tain the old serpent hath his habitation. In the 
valley it is fresh and fertile ; there the trees 
thrive, there sprouts the full ear, there the reap- 
ing is a hundredfold. In the vale of humility 
God outpours the riches of His grace ; therefore 
remain firmly rooted and established in it. 



Bernard. 



WW me the lowest place ; not that I dare 
Ask for that lowest place, but Thou hast died 

That I might live and share 
Thy glory by Thy side. 

Give me the lowest place : or if for me 

That lowest place too high, make one more low 

Where I may sit and see 
My God and love Thee so. 

Christina Rosetti. 



* 



238 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Sbrtl) jfrftag- 



% Wiaxh % Jlesfr, Hub % f eKI. 



#11011 who, for forty days and nights, o'ermastered all 

the might 
Of Satan, and the fiercest pangs of famished appetite — 
O Saviour ! leave us not alone to wrestle with our sin, 
But aid us in these holy hours of solemn discipline. 

Let not the tempter tempt us, Lord, beyond our strength 

to bear, 
Though, in the desert of our woe, he wildly shrieks, 

Despair ! 
Let not our humble confidence be in Thy promise stirred, 
Nor clouds of dark distrust spring up between us and Thy 

word. 

Nor ler us yet be lifted up — by him, the prince of air, 
To scale presumption's dizzy height, and left to perish 

there ; ~" 
Nor on the temple's pinnacle, in our self-righteous pride, 
Be set for Thee to frown upon, and demons to deride. 



*J* 3S3B5SSEKEHEEBSrai 



araa 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



239 



And oh, when pleasure, power, and pomp around our 

vision swim, 
And, through the soft, enchanting mist, he bids us worship 

him, 
Assist us from the revelling sense the sorcerer's spell to 

break, 
And tread the arch-apostate down, Redeemer, for Thy 

sake. 

Croswell. 




1 HIS is the victory that overcometh 
the world, even our faith." 



What is the representation here 
made of our position ? We have 
an enemy. That is plainly said. 
Every one of us, who has any of the hopes or 
aims of a Christian, has an enemy, whose 
existence, whose ceaseless activity, may well 
trouble and alarm him. We cannot escape 
from him. It is a foe of our own household. 
It is a foe with whom we are compelled to asso- 
ciate every day. The world ; the things that 
are seen ; the present state ; the life that is, with 
all its cares, its interests, its pleasures — this is 
our enemy. We do not speak in a fantastic, 
unreal, or exaggerated sense ; we are not coun- 
selling a morbid fear of things which God has 
created for our use and for our enjoyment, as 
though a serpent lurked in each, and made its 



-* 



B9I 



^ 



240 A BOS ART FOE LENT. 

very touch deadly. But we do know, every one of 
us, that, taking the present state as a whole, the 
world in the aggregate of its influences upon us, 
is not a friend to our highest good ; if our high- 
est good be that which God seems to represent it 
to be in His word of revelation. Let yourself 
alone but for one day ; surrender yourself but 
for one day to the guidance, to the operation 
upon you, of your world, less or greater ; move 
about in it, listen and talk, work and enjoy in it 
for one day, without any counteracting and 
countervailing power consciously looked and 
appealed to within, and where would you be at 
the end of that day ? Should you be nearer to, 
or further from, the goal of life, if that goal be a 
heavenly one, if that goal be the love of God, the 
attainment of a Divine rest, a spiritual happiness, 
and an eternal home ? 

It is thus that we must test the world, and not 
by any lower or more arbitrary standard. If this 
strange complicated thing which we call our 
being, ourselves, is ever to know unity, repose, 
complete satisfaction, all its parts having attained 
their object:, and consciously resting in their per- 
fect joy ; if this is the hope which Christ came 
to inspire in all who will have Him for their 
Saviour ; then that must be our enemy which 
tends to distract and to unsettle us, to turn off 



A BOS ART FOB LENT. 24 1 

our attention from the aim of life, and to bid us 
find or seek repose in this thing or that thing, 
which is either doubtful of attainment, inferior in 
nature, limited in extent, or brief in duration. 

The world is our enemy, on the supposition 
that we have any aim or any hope beyond it. 
Not otherwise. The world is our friend if all we 
have ever to look for is bounded by the life that 
is. If we do not believe in Christ, if we do not 
desire to be with Him, if we do not wish above all 
things, so to live that that hope of being with Him 
hereafter may not be interfered with, then we 
cannot do better than get all that this world has 
to offer us, make peace with it, adopt its princi- 
ples, claim its friendship, sue for its rewards : 
else shall we be losing both worlds — the world 
that is, and also the world that shall be. 

But this is not so, avowedly, with any of us : 
God grant it be not so really. We do wish, 
every one of us, to get safe to heaven. If by any 
one great sacrifice or great exertion we could 
secure this, I do not believe that there is one 
person in this congregation who would refuse 
or hesitate to make it. I scarcely believe there 
is one here present who would not willingly lay 
down even this precious life that is, for the cer- 
tainty of a sure and instant entrance into a world 
of safety and of immortality. But it is not thus 

11 



sn 



242 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

that our warfare has to be waged. Rather is it 
by a protracted, a wearisome, often a desultory 
process, that we must make our way : by wake- 
fulness, by discernment, by discretion, by being 
always ready, by being patient of delay and dis- 
appointment, by a willingness oftentimes only to 
stand and wait, by experience dearly purchased, 
by rising sadder and wiser from painful falls, 
by making an onward step when we can, but 
more often by hardly refraining from a backward 
one, by being ever prepared to find real foes in 
fancied friends, or to see the mountain side, 
which seemed but now emptied and untenanted, 
bristling on the sudden with armed enemies ; it 
is thus that the Christian conflict is waged ; and 
many a man who could have nerved himself for 
one brief decisive struggle, however sharp or un- 
equal, fails, faints, and at last deserts, amidst the 
ceaseless and less heroic exertions by which he 
must fight his way into the kingdom of God in 
heaven. 

The world : that is our foe. Sometimes the 
world is made but one of three foes — the flesh 
and the devil being added to it. But, like each 
of these also — like the flesh, like the devil — it is 
sometimes made to embrace all that opposes the 
Christian warrior. It is the flesh which gives en- 
trance to all ; it is the devil who directs and uses 



A ROSARY FOR LENT 



243 



all ; but the world furnishes the material of all. 
The world contains everything that can either 
tempt or harass : and the victory of the Christian, 
like the victory of Christ Himself, is then com- 
pleted when he can say, without enumerating 
aught else, / have overcome the world. 

Charles John Vaughan, D.D. 



*' 



u ^jUtttt shall not live by bread alone, but by 
every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of 
God." 

You are entreated to take notice that this 
reply of the great Captain of our Salvation hath 
been bequeathed to us, His feeble and most faith- 
less soldiers, as a precious legacy, as well as a 
most glorious pattern and example. Against 
Carnal Appetite, against the Lust of the Flesh, did 
Satan address his first temptation when he as- 
sailed our Lord ; and we may be well assured 
that he assailed the Holy One in that quarter 
because he knew it to be the quarter in which 
human nature is most vulnerable. It is a fearful 
thought for us all ; but it is a truth against which 
we close our eyes at our peril. Nine out of ten 
are most open to assaults of a fleshly nature. 



244 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Here and there, worldly ambition, — here and 
there, spiritual presumption, — is the snare which 
beguiles a man and works his ruin : but it is far 
oftener gluttony or drunkenness, sloth or lust, 
which gives the Enemy an advantage over him, 
and in the end causes him to be dragged down 
to the very edge of the pit. Now, as already 
pointed out, the great Captain of our Salvation 
hath left us a weapon wherewith to repel such 
assaults, in the words of the text, — whereby He 
beat away the Tempter, disarmed him, and gave 
him a death-blow. On our lips (God be praised 
for it !) those words have exactly the same force 
which they had on His. They imply that man 
hath a soul as well as a body ; that the life of 
the body does indeed depend on its union to the 
soul, but the life of the soul depends on its union 
with God : that bread is indeed the support of 
man's lower nature, yet not of his higher ; as it 
is written, " Man shall not live by bread alone." 
The spiritual meat is to do the will of God. And 
while man continues to be such as he is, so long 
will it be the true answer to all fleshly solicita- 
tions, solemnly to profess that a man's life con- 
sisteth not in the things which he possesseth ; 
that he has loftier needs than aught on earth 
can supply ; that his meat is to do God's will ; 
that his life is to lean upon God ; for that in 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 245 

Him, and through Him, and by Him, he lives, 
and moves, and hath his very being. 

Burgou. 



" $fiX the corruptible body presseth down the 
soul, and the earthy tabernacle weigheth down 
the mind that museth upon many things." 

The world hopes to win us by flattery, the 
Devil attacks us with sharpness and ingenuity, 
but the flesh seeks to wear us out. It is always 
at its work, pressing down the soul, taming the 
ecstasy of devotion, putting a clog upon the will, 
crossing, and checking, and thwarting good de- 
sires. It is our keeper, and we are chained to it 
while we are in this prison-house of clay ; night 
and day, sleeping and waking. What would it 
be to be free from it ! We cannot remember a 
moment of our lives in which we have not felt 
the burden of our body ; none in which we have 
not had something that would be either pain or 
discomfort in Heaven. Of itself, this freedom 
would almost make Heaven. Possibly it is the 
joy of Paradise, the negative bliss of that tranquil 
state in which the soul waits for those without 
whom it cannot be made perfect. Just to be 
free ; to be a soul and to love ; to be a mind and 
to think ; to be safe and at rest, rid of our 



+' 



246 A BOS ART FOB LENT. 

keeper and beyond our foes ; this is to be in 
Paradise. 



u Ijjttt on the whole armor of God, that ye may 
be able to stand against the wiles of the Devil. 
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but 
against principalities, against powers, against the 
rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiri- 
tual wickedness in high places." 

Eph. vi., 11 — 12. 

****** The armor with which they were 
called upon to clothe themselves was in order to 
their protection against the injurious attempts 
of the Devil. It was invisible, yet no less real ; 
and in like manner the enemy with whom they 
were to contend was equally invisible, and equally 
real. He is spoken of as an existing person, and 
a person of whose existence, as of his devices, 
they were not ignorant. The object of the 
Apostle is not to show us that there is a Devil, 
or that he is able to make war against us, but, 
starting from that point, to show how only we 
can resist him — not by our own strength, but by 
the power of the Lord in the use of those means 
of defence which He has given us. 

And this manner of speaking of the Devil is 
worthy of our notice, because it is so plain a 



* 



-* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 2AJ 

recognition of his personality and his power. 
For, some men there have been and are who are 
so bold as to deny this ; although their denial is 
for us, indeed, somewhat shorn of its strength, as 
we reflect that they are of the number of those 
who do not, also, fear to deny the Lord that 
bought them. But those who will search the 
Scriptures for their information of that world 
which lies above, beneath, and around us, and 
who will be content to hold as a matter of faith 
what the limit of the human mind will never 
permit them to grasp as a matter of knowledge, 
will learn that there is no clearer, no more cer- 
tain revelation of a God than there is of a Devil. 
More fully and more minutely is the being of 
God unfolded, but not more surely. And we 
need not be surprised to find that those who 
suffer themselves to doubt of the one, do after a 
time doubt of the other also. For if we have the 
same authority for both, and one be found not 
true, then have we no authority that we can 
trust for the other ; and if we receive not the 
God of the Scriptures, but seek one amid the 
obscure teachings of a corrupted nature, we may 
rest assured that, whatever we find, it will not be 
the God in Christ. Though we should think we 
found no necessity for redemption, yet the cer- 
tainty would be that we found no redemption — 



* 



248 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

though we should rid ourselves of the fear of 
Hell, we could cherish no hope of Heaven. 
And what is God without Christ, but power 
without love ? which is the very character the 
Bible gives to Satan. 

Rev. Wm. y. Seabury. 



-* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 249 



0ktl) 0aturbaj3* 



Cljartig. 



CD God ! whose thoughts are brightest light, 
Whose love runs always clear, 
To whose kind wisdom sinning souls 
Amidst their sins are dear ! 

Sweeten my bitter-thoughted heart 

With charity like Thine, 
Till self shall be the only spot 

On earth which does not shine. 

Hard-heartedness dwells not with souls 
Round whom Thine arms are drawn ; 

And dark thoughts fade away in grace, 
Like cloud-spots in the dawn. 

I often see in my own thoughts, 

When they lie nearest Thee, 
That the worst men I ever knew 

Were better men than mc. 
11* 



25O A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

And of all truths, no other truth 

So true as this one seems ; 
While others' faults, that plainest were, 

Grow indistinct as dreams. 

All men look good except ourselves, 

All but ourselves are great ; 
The rays that make our sins so clear, 

Their faults obliterate. 

Things that appeared undoubted sins, 

Wear little crowns of light ; 
Their dark, remaining darkness still, 

Shames and outshines our bright. 

Time was when I believed that wrong 

In others to detect, 
Was part of genius, and a gift 

To cherish, not reject. 

Now better taught by Thee, O Lord ! 

This truth dawns on my mind, — 
The best effect of heavenly light 

Is earth's false eyes to blind. 

Thou art the Unapproached, whose height 

Enables Thee to stoop, 
Whose holiness bends undefiled, 

To handle hearts that droop. 

He, whom no praise can reach, is aye 
Men's least attempts approving ; 



I 



•i" 



A ROSARY FOR LEXT. 25 I 

Whom justice makes all-merciful, 
Omniscience makes all-loving. 

How Thou canst think so well of us, 

Yet be the God Thou art, 
Is darkness to my intellect, 

But sunshine to my heart 

Yet habits linger in the soul ; 

More grace, O Lord, more grace ! 
More sweetness from Thy loving Heart, 
More sunshine from Thy Face. 

When we ourselves least kindly are, 

We deem the world unkind ; 
Dark hearts, in flowers where honey lies, 

Only the poison find. 

We paint from self the evil things 

We think that others are ; 
While to the self-despising soul 

All things but self are fair. 

Yes, they have caught the way of God, 

To whom self lies displayed 
In such clear vision as to cast 

O'er others' faults a shade. 

A bright horizon out at sea 

Obscures the distant ships ; 
Rough hearts look smooth and beautiful 

In charity's eclipse. 



252 A ROSARY FOR. LENT. 

Love's changeful mood our neighbor's faults 
O'erwhelms with burning ray, 

And in excess of splendor hides 
What is not burned away. 

Again, with truth like God's, it shades 
Harsh things with untrue light, 

Like moons that make a fairy-land 
Of fallow fields at night. 

Then mercy, Lord ! more mercy still ! 

Make me all light within, 
Self-hating and compassionate, 

And blind to others' sin. 

I need Thy mercy for my sin ; 

But more than this I need, — 
Thy mercy's likeness in my soul, 

For others' sin to bleed. 

'Tis not enough to weep my sins ; 

'Tis but one step to Heaven ; 
When I am kind to others, then 

I know myself forgiven. 

Would that my soul might be a world 

Of golden ether bright, 
A heaven where other souls might float, 

Like all Thy worlds, in light. 

All bitterness is from ourselves, 
All sweetness is from Thee ; 



A EOS ART FOB LENT. 

Sweet God ! for evermore be Thou 
Fountain and fire in me ! 



253 



Faher. 




HEN it is considered that charity is 
HP declared to be the greatest of vir- 
tues — greater even than faith itself, 
no one who is at all desirous of 
pleasing God, and anxious for his 
own safety, can afford to overlook so very solemn 
and important a lesson. Let us therefore attend 
to this matter with some care. 

And, first, we cannot help being struck by the 
very lofty place which the Apostle assigns to 
charity. If any one were to come among us, and 
speak so eloquently that all paused to listen, 
while all who listened were enchanted ; if the 
charm of his eloquence were such that tears 
flowed when he spoke, and men went away from 
his presence persuaded of the things he taught, 
we might be apt to think such a one a great 
favorite of heaven, as well as a chosen instrument 
in God's hands. St. Paul, however, speaking by 
the spirit of God, expressly informs us that we 
might be mistaken in so doing. If this attractive 
speaker had not charity, he would be nothing ! 
But we should yet be more certainly entrapped 
into a belief that we beheld a great and holy 
person, signally beloved of God, and destined 



* 



254 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

to occupy a high place in heaven, if the person 
we have been already describing had the gift 
of prophecy, and understood all the mysteries 
of religion. The treasures of divine wisdom, we 
are apt to think, cannot abide with any but the 
very good. We learn from God Himself, how- 
ever, that they may exist where there is no cha- 
rity ; and moreover, that if they do exist in one 
who has not charity, that man is nothing. 

A far severer trial would await us if we saw 
this person give proof of a most living faith. 
What would be thought of one who could say 
unto this mountain, " Remove hence to yonder 
place," and straightway it should be seen to 
obey the command of the speaker, and roll from 
its everlasting seat ? We should surely regard 
him as something more than human. We should 
certainly be bold to assume that he carried the 
seal of the Eternal God on his forehead. And 
yet, the witness of the Spirit is express that 
this worker of miracles, if he were without cha- 
rity, would be as nothing in God's sight. 

The crowning wonder yet remains. Watch 
this same speaker with the tongue of angels — 
this same mighty prophet and deep divine, this 
same worker of miracles, who is possessed of all 
faith — watch him as he retires from the scene of 
his preaching, of his display of sacred wisdom, 



A EOS ART FOB LENT. 



255 



of his acts of miraculous power, and behold him 
calmly making a sacrifice of all his earthly pos- 
sessions, in order to benefit the poor, to clothe 
the naked, and to feed the hungry. He is now 
himself a beggar. He has parted with all his 
goods ; and the objects of his bounty were the 
poor of the flock — -the Good Shepherd's little 
ones. You must feel that this sight would com- 
pletely silence suspicion and overcome doubt. 
We should be tempted, every one of us, to ex- 
claim — " This man is a real saint ! " 

However, the plain facl is, that if I do all these 
things, and have not charity, it profiteth me 
nothing! This may appear strange, but the 
strangeness of the matter signifies nothing. It 
is true. There may be the gift of tongues with- 
out the gift of charity ; the gift of prophecy, the 
understanding of all mysteries, and the posses- 
sion of all knowledge, and yet no charity. Faith 
that can move mountains, yet no charity. Alms- 
giving (which is sometimes improperly called 
charity), and yet charity itself may be wanting. 
And (which it concerns us most of all to notice), 
if it be wanting, then all the other wondrous 
gifts and graces are nothing worth. A more 
striking revelation concerning ourselves is per- 
haps hardly to be found in any page of Scrip- 
ture. 



►J* a 



256 ^L ROSARY FOR LENT. 

What, then, is the nature of the gift concerning 
which such lofty things are told us ? Verily, 
when we come to examine, our wonder increases. 
We expected something very magnificent, and 
everything we hear is something exceedingly 
lowly. We expected a proud flower, and we 
find nothing but a fragrant herb which creeps 
very near the ground. Let us go over St. Paul's 
description of charity, feature by feature. 

First, then, " Charity suffereth long and is 
kind." Observe, therefore, that charity does not 
do anything great : nay, it does not do anything 
at all. It suffers. Next, we learn that it is 
without envy. " Charity envieth not." It fol- 
lows that it "vaunteth not itself; is not puffed 
up ; doth not behave itself unseemly ; seeketh 
not her own." We may pause to point out that 
we are in the midst of a string of negatives, each 
of which demolishes, at a blow, a whole class of 
actions which disfigure the character. The 
boastful, the proud, the unseemly, the self-seek- 
ing — all of these here meet with their reproof, 
and are reminded that charity dwells with none 
of themselves. Charity, once more, " is not 
easily provoked ; " and this is a feature of charity 
which reminds us painfully how rarely charity is 
met with in daily life ; where, instead of unwill- 
ingness to take offence, we rather find people in- 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 2$? 

venting causes of provocation where no offence 
was intended. Again, " she thinketh no evil." 
Oh, divine charity, which " thinketh no evil," even 
though she dwells in the midst of a wicked 
world ! It is because she rejoiceth not in ini- 
quity, but rejoiceth in the truth. If we loved 
better whatever things are pure, and lovely, and 
of good report, if iniquity were a burden to our 
spirits and a grief to our hearts, then, doubtless, 
we should be less prone to suspect its existence 
around us. Nay we should "think no evil" 
where evil was not proved to be. 

Charity, lastly, " beareth all things ; believeth 
all things ; hopeth all things ; endureth all 
things." And this lovely grace exhausts itself 
in no sudden act ; but it becomes an abiding 
habit of the soul : " Charity never faileth." Take 
notice, then, that endurance is again and again 
noted as its special work : nay, faith and hope 
themselves are but two of its functions ; and 
they are the only acTs of charity which St. Paul 
here enumerates at all. 

This shall suffice on the subject of charity or 
love. The few words which have been offered 
should set us on a curious and somewhat anxious 
review of our own conduct. And truly he must 
be a very holy person indeed who can examine 
the Apostle's picture, and not feel how very 



-* 



258 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

slender a likeness it presents of himself. Very 
certain are we that this page in the duty of a 
Christian man can never be too attentively 
studied ; and that it is not by any means studied 
enough. The talk of what is called " society " is 
not the talk of charity. The ways of the world 
are not charitable ways. Public intercourse and 
private friendship are sadly marred by the ab- 
sence of charity. Charity is sometimes a stran- 
ger even in domestic circles ; and the happiness 
of a whole household becomes embittered for 
years, it may be for ever. Why is this ? How 
does it happen that what God hath so admirably 
contrived for the happiness and well-being of 
His creatures, should become converted into a 
grief and vexation to them, as well as into an 
offence to Himself? It is because there is 
so little long-suffering in the world — so little 
forbearance and kindness ; so much envying ; so 
many vaunting words and puffed-up ways ; so 
much unseemly behavior ; so much self-seeking. 
It is because men and women are so very easily 
provoked, and are so prone to think all evil of 
one another. It is because there is so little in- 
clination to cover faults ; so much unbelief; so 
little hope. It is because there is so small a 
measure of meek endurance amongst mankind. 

Burgon. 



-* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



259 



u ^Mt^ qui pleurez, venez a ce Dieu, car il pleure. 
Vous qui souffrez, venez a. lui, car il guerit. 
Vous qui tremblez, venez a lui, car il sourit. 
Vous qui passez, venez a lui, car il demeure." 

Victor Hugo, 
Ecrit au bas a'un Crucifix. 



-4. 



260 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Jklm Sunbap- 




|ND when they drew nigh unto Jeru- 
salem, and were come to Bethphage, 
unto the Mount of Olives, then 
sent Jesus two disciples, saying 
unto them, " Go into the village 
over against you, and straightway ye shall find an 
ass tied, and a colt with her ; loose them and 
bring them unto Me. 

" And if any man say aught unto you, ye shall 
say, ' The Lord hath need of them ; ' and straight- 
way he will send them." 

All this was done that it might be fulfilled 
which was spoken by the prophet, saying, " Tell 
ye the daughter of Zion, Behold, thy King com- 
eth unto thee, meek, and sitting upon an ass, 
and a colt the foal of an ass." 

And the disciples went and did as Jesus com- 
manded them, and brought the ass, and the colt, 
and put on them their clothes, and they set Him 
thereon. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 26 1 

And a very great multitude spread their gar- 
ments in the way ; others cut down branches 
from the trees, and strowed them in the way. 

And the multitudes that 'went before and that 
followed, cried, saying, " Hosanna to the Son of 
David : Blessed is He that cometh in the name 
of the Lord ; Hosanna in the highest." 



262 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



*' 



palm 0im&ai3. 



fesns Slept. 



^Mi£ on ! ride on in majesty ! 
Hark ! all the tribes Hosanna cry ! 
Thine humble beast pursues his road, 
With palms and scattered garments strew'd ! 

Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 

In lowly pomp ride on to die ! 

O Christ ! Thy triumphs now begin 

O'er captive Death and conquered Sin ! 

Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 
The winged squadrons of the sky 
Look down with sad and wondering eyes 
To see the approaching sacrifice ! 

Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 
Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh ; 
The Father on his sapphire throne 
Expects His own anointed Son ! 



* 



A EOS ART FOB LENT. 263 

Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 

In lowly pomp ride on to die ! 

Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain ! 

Then take, O God ! Thy power, and reign ! 

H. H. Milman. 

" He beheld the city and wept over it." — 

St. Luke xix. 41. 

HE Lord of Heaven and Earth weep- 
ing ? Was it because all around 
Him now shouting Hosanna must 
so soon rest cold and silent in the 
grave ? Was it that the hours of 
His own Passion already lay dark and heavy on 
His soul ? Was it that He, in His divine fore- 
knowledge, wept for the souls that would not, 
after all, see the things that belonged unto their 
peace ? He would not weep because their Lord 
must suffer in order to save their souls. He 
might weep to know that these souls would 
reject His great salvation. He might also, 
indeed, weep at the prevision of the individual 
tortures of mind and body to be borne during 
the awful destruction He was foretelling. Twice 
are we told that our Saviour wept : once on this 
occasion, and once when Lazarus lay dead, and 
He saw the grief of Lazarus's sisters and their 
friends. 




'* 



264 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Those two little words, the shortest verse in 
the whole Divine Book, have perhaps touched 
more hearts, softened more souls — sealed and 
closed, as it were, under some heavy sorrow — 
than any others. Obdurate as we may be under 
our sufferings, willing to believe hard things of 
God, of our neighbor, of our ill fortune, as we call 
it, these two little words condemn us. He who 
afflicts us wept also. He could weep and feel as 
man for man's suffering, man's death ; He wept 
for others' grief and His own, though He knew He 
could relieve it instantly. He cannot, unmoved, 
behold our tears, our bitter pain and woe, our 
bitter dreariness and desolation. He does not 
behold them unmoved ; He enters into every 
detail of every sorrow ; Himself " took our sor- 
rows and bare our sicknesses." His Divine sym- 
pathy is as deep and penetrating as His compas- 
sion is large and vast. Only His pity rests not 
only in the present suffering of the body, or of 
the spirit. The pain is sent with an object, and 
if that fail — if He see that we persist in rejecting 
the lesson sent to us, and the right source of 
consolation and strength under our sufferings, 
He may, indeed, weep for us, as for the Holy 
City, tears of prophetic sorrow. Let us, then, 
strive that it be not so — that He may give to us, 
as to the beloved Lazarus and his sisters, a deep 



■BBSB3 *%* 



!*" 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



265 



loving share in His divine sympathy ; but not, as 
to Jerusalem, a share in His divine despair. 

Lady Charlotte Maria Pefiys. 



" JW. (S!trt)OTtOttt has a refleaion, as a warn- 
ing to us, that we take care that the Lord have 
not to weep over us, for we are that Jerusalem 
over which He weeps ; yea, much more unhappy 
than that, if, after the word of truth hath been 
declared unto us, we fall into sin. Gregory as 
beautifully dwells on the same interpretation : 
' Our Redeemer, through His elect, ceases not 
to mourn over us, when He considers some who, 
after a good life, have fallen into reprobate man- 
ners ; who, if they would but perceive that 
damnation which hangeth over them, would 
join their own tears also with those of the elect. 
But the perverse soul, that delighteth in this 
transitory time, hath its day ; in the which are 
set before it the things that belong to its peace, 
while it taketh delight from temporal things, and 
refuseth to foresee those future things which may 
disturb its present joy.' 

" He afterwards adds : ' But the depraved mind 
God assiduously visits by precept ; sometimes by 
the scourge, and sometimes by miracle, in order 
that it may return, being touched with compunc- 



12 



266 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

tion and sorrow ; or overcome by benefits, may 
blush for the evil it hath done. But, because it 
knoweth not the day of its visitation, in the end 
of life it is delivered up to its enemies.' The 
same writer dwells also, particularly and at 
length, on the adaptation of this fearful pro- 
phecy to spiritual enemies, when they shall 
besiege and overthrow a soul, at length given up 
to their power ; drawing out more fully the same 
application of Origen. Quesnel also does the 
same : ' Our blessed Saviour,' he says, ' speaks 
here only of the temporal punishment which was 
to be inflicted on the Jews, to the end that all 
may understand that this is but a figure and 
shadow of that which the Divine justice pre- 
pares for sinners in the other life.' 

" If God by such external punishments as 
these takes vengeance on the Jews for their con- 
tempt of Christ's external visitation by His incar- 
nation, preaching, miracles, and mysteries, what 
ought not an unfaithful soul to fear, which He 
has visited internally, and made His habitation, 
palace and royal city, by His grace and sacra- 
ments ? Lord, let the serious consideration of 
so great a desolation as this excite in me a salu- 
tary dread of losing Thee. 

" May God grant that we may feel for ourselves 
as He feels for us ! May we feel for ourselves as 



massmmmmmm 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 26 J 

His angels, who watch over us, feel for us. For 
if they rejoice over one sinner that repenteth, 
doubtless they sympathize in their Masters 
tears. May we feel for ourselves as the saints, 
which are with God, feel for us. For, even in 
the place of the wicked, the rich man was moved 
at the thought of that desolation that was coming 
on his five brethren in the flesh ; much more do 
the spirits of the good feel for us, while we, haply, 
are rejoicing in worldly delights." 






mmmmmammmmmmmmmmmmBmmmmmimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmammmm^ 



268 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Jttonbai) in ^oly iJPeek- 



%\i Cursing of % Jig-fae* 




|N the morning, as He returned into 
the city, He hungered. 

And when He saw a fig-tree in 
the way, He came to it, and found 
nothing thereon, but leaves only, 
and said unto it : Let no fruit grow on thee 
henceforward for ever. And presently the fig- 
tree withered away. 

And when His disciples saw it they mar- 
velled, saying : How soon is the fig-tree withered 
away ! 



waBmmemm 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



269 



Jttonftctg in ^oly ttkek* 



Itnfmiifnliuss. 



^WJ soul ! what hast thou done for God ? 

Look o'er thy misspent years and see ; 
Sum up what thou hast done for God, 

And then what God hath done for thee. 

He made thee when He might have made 
A soul that would have loved Him more ; 

He rescued thee from nothingness, 
And set thee on life's happy shore. 

He placed an angel at thy side, 

And strewed joys round thee on thy way ; 
He gave thee rights thou couldst not claim, 

And life, free life, before thee lay. 

Had God in Heaven no work to do, 

But miracles of love for thee ? 
No world to rule, no joy in self, 

And in His own infinity ? 



*■ 



*' 



270 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

So must it seem to our blind eyes ; 

He gave His love no Sabbath rest. 
Still plotting happiness for men, 

And new designs to make them blest. 

From out His glorious bosom came 

His only, His eternal Son ; 
He freed the race of Satan's slaves, 

And with His Blood sin's captives won. 

The world rose up against His love : 

New love the vile rebellion met, 
As though God only looked at sin 

Its guilt to pardon and forget. 

For His Eternal Spirit came 

To raise the thankless slaves to sons, 

And with the sevenfold gifts of love 
To crown His own elected ones. 

Men spurned His grace ; their lips blasphemed 
The Love who made Himself their slave ; 

They grieved that blessed Comforter, 
And turned against Him what He gave. 

Yet still the sun is fair by day, 
The moon still beautiful by night ; 

The world goes round, and joy with it, 
And life, free life, is men's delight. 

No voice God's wondrous silence breaks, 
No hand put forth His anger tells ; 

And He, the Omnipotent and Dread, 
On high in humblest patience dwells. 



>|«a 



A ROSARY FOE LENT. 

The Son hath come ; and maddened sin 
The world's Creator crucified ; 

The Spirit comes, and stays, while men 
His presence doubt, His gifts deride. 

And now the Father keeps Himself, 
In patient and forbearing love, 

To be His creature's heritage, 
In that undying life above. 

O wonderful, O passing thought ! 

The love that God hath had for thee, 
Spending on thee no less a sum 

Than the Undivided Trinity I 

Father, and Son, and Holy Ghost, 
Exhausted for a thing like this, — 

The world's whole government disposed 
For one ungrateful creature's bliss. 

What hast thou done for God, my soul ? 

Look o'er thy misspent years and see ; 
Cry from thy worse than nothingness, 

Cry for His mercy upon thee. 



271 



Fabtr. 



Q have no wit, no words, no tears ; 

My heart within me like a stone 
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears ; 

Look right, look left, I dwell alone ; 



*■ 



*' 



Will' I.IMM 



272 A BOSAET FOB LENT. 

I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief — 

No everlasting hills I see ; 
My life is in the falling leaf: 

O Jesus, quicken me. 

My life is like a faded leaf, 

My harvest dwindled to a husk ; 
Truly my life is void and brief 

And tedious in the barren dusk ; 
My life is like a frozen thing, 

No bud or greenness can I see : 
Yet rise it shall — the sap of spring ; 

O Jesus, rise in me. 

My life is like a broken bowl, 

A broken bowl that cannot hold 
One drop of water for my soul 

Or cordial in the searching cold ; 
Cast in the fire the perished thing, 

Melt and remould it, till it be 
A royal cup for Him, my King : 

O Jesus, drink of me. 

Christina Rosetti. 



HE proper keeping of these memo- 
rial days, no doubt, occasions us all 
more or less thought. We all pro- 
bably think as Palm Sunday dawns 
upon us (the only Sunday that 
seems not truly a feast day) that this is the Great 
Week, and that all our thoughts should be som- 




-h 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



273 



bre, all our business worship, all our pleasure 
prayer. But Monday comes like other Mon- 
days ; pleasure offers, from little, unexpected, and 
insidious channels ; business presses, with its 
hard face, and the world laughs a careless laugh 
at the chimera of a sorrow. 

But let it pause before it decides that it is a 
chimerical solemnity. Good-Friday is the anni- 
versary of a Saviour's death ; hundreds and hun- 
dreds have already been spent in mourning by 
the Christian world. This is the anniversary of 
the last week on which He walked the* earth ; 
so cruel to Him then, so careless of Him 
now. Shall we not try to do our part towards 
wiping out the stain of that ingratitude, and 
watch with Him one hour ? There is not very 
much that is tangible left us to encourage our 
devotion : our worship is to be a spiritual one. 
The day of our Saviour's birth has not been 
given to us ; 

"And fast as evening sunbeams from the sea, 
His footsteps all in Sion's deep decay- 
Were blotted from the holy ground : — " 

Even His place of sepulchre is sacred from 
association, not from certainty. We cannot tell 
when His public ministry began : there is no Day 

1 2* 



BSBBHM 



274 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

of Baptism for us to keep holy ; but, guided by 
the Jewish Feast, the Church suffers us to hope 
that on these days of His Passion and Resurrec- 
tion we may without presumption say and feel, 
" On this day, at this hour, my Holy Master 
suffered such and such pains for me." 

We have one Holy Week ; then let us keep it 
holy, mark it with our best devotions, separate it 
as far as it is in our power from all profane and 
common uses. Let no one be ashamed to 
feel, through the length of this long week, as if a 
burden were laid upon him ; as if a dear friend 
had died ; as if the household wore fresh mourn- 
ing. No one will be the worse for a fast like 
this ; no one will be the sadder through the year 
for keeping " the silence of Christ's dying day" 
unbroken in his heart." 

And how, in the midst of a merry or a scoffing 
world ? 

Our Saviour will accept our loving remem- 
brance of Him, no matter through what mist of 
difficulties it may arise to Him. We can re- 
member Him in Holy Week, every hour of every 
day, though but two hours be spent in church. 
The devout intention of our heart, the honest 
consecration of the week to Him, as far as our 
enemies permit, this is what He seeks and all 
He asks. To trace His life, as far as we are 



+' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 27$ 

able, through each successive day ; to bear Him 
continually in our thoughts ; to give up, honestly, 
all worldly pleasures that are in our choice ; to 
dedicate all leisure that is not taken up by neces- 
sary rest to meditation, prayer, and works of 
charity ; to banish foolish thinking ; to sober all 
our work and plans with a thought of " what my 
Lord was suffering now ; " this is, honestly ful- 
filled, a wise and well kept Holy Week. 

It is not a debt paid ; heaven forbid ! But it is 
something done towards binding ourselves closer 
to the Heart that bled for us, towards entering 
more into Its love, and learning more of Its ever- 
lasting wisdom. If we have suffered with Him 
we shall also reign with Him. 

The moments least wasted in our year perhaps 
will be the silent, struggling, possibly unsatisfied 
hours of Passion Week ; hours in which we have 
tried to fasten our thoughts on the infinite, and to 
fill our poor imaginations with a story at which 
bright angels have grown pale and trembled. 
The attempt may have seemed a failure to us ; 
our thoughts may have fallen very far below their 
aim ; our fancy may have tired before the task 
was taken up ; our prayers may have chilled us 
as they left our lips ; but our Lord knows our 
hearts, and remembers that we are but dust. No 
honest, earnest effort to deserve His love was 



* 



276 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

ever lost. If He replies not now, He will here- 
after, in our soul's health, in our inward prospe- 
rity. 



•-' %X was 'the appearance of life/ says Origen, 
4 without fruit, the profession of faith only, with 
no fruit thereon.' ' There were leaves only — 
'Pharisaical traditions,' says St. Hilary. 'The 
justification of the law,' says St. Augustine, 
4 without the fruits of truth.' It was, ' by the 
way,' — on the same way that the good Samaritan 
was travelling into the heavenly city ; it was 
4 by the way ' of righteousness, the way of obe- 
dience ; for it was in fulfilling the law that He 
came unto Jerusalem, as by duty bound, unto 
the Feast of the Passover. He came, ' if haply 
He might find fruit thereon ;' not, indeed, as if 
expecting much, but as the faithful Abraham in- 
terceding for Sodom, — I if, peradventure, ten be 
found there.' And when He came unto it, He 
found nothing but leaves only, and empty sem- 
blances of religion, for 'it was not yet the time of 
fruit with them.' But these strange and unex- 
plained words may leave us a hope that even 
with them also the season of fruits may yet come. 
But not on that withered and accursed stock, in- 
deed ; unless it be in the time of Antichrist that 



•b 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 2^ 

the evil stock shall again put itself forth, when 
4 the fig-tree shall shoot forth,' and we shall 
know of ourselves that the eternal ' summer is 
nigh/ St. Ambrose thus takes the fig-tree for 
the synagogue in the place where our Lord 
speaks of it as putting forth leaves before His 
second coming. St. Hilary explains, at length, 
this fig-tree as the faithless synagogue of the 
Jews, and speaks of it as ' setting forth the image 
of a future event, when He shall have come in 
His heavenly kingdom, the sentence of eternal 
condemnation shall come upon the barrenness 
of Jewish infidelity.' i That fig-tree,' says ano- 
ther Latin writer, • is the synagogue from Cain 
and the rest, from all of whom blood shall be re- 
quired, from that of Abel to that of Zacharias.' 
It is, therefore, that ' fig-tree ' which shall be 
shaken ' by a mighty wind,' • and cast her un- 
timely figs,' - like stars falling from heaven, at the 
next coming of the Son of Man." 



278 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



Suesfrat) in ^olg tPeek. 



dLjjrist in % Ccmplt 





3SSS 




Wk 

1 OV! 


m 


il 



ESUS went into the Temple of God, 
and cast out all them that sold and 
bought in the Temple, and over- 
threw the tables of the money- 
changers, and the seats of them 
that sold doves, and said unto them : " It is 
written, My house shall be called the house of 
prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves." 

And the blind and the lame came to Him in 
the Temple ; and He healed them. 

And when the Chief Priests and Scribes saw 
the wonderful things that He did, and the chil- 
dren crying in the Temple, and saying : " Ho- 
sanna to the Son of David," they were sore dis- 
pleased, and said unto Him, " Hearest Thou 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 279 

what these say ? " And Jesus saith unto them, 
" Yea ; have ye never read, ' Out of the mouth 
of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected 
praise ' ? " 

And when He was come into the Temple, the 
Chief Priests and the Elders of the people came 
unto Him as He was teaching, and said, " By 
what authority doest Thou these things ? And 
who gave Thee this authority ? " 

And He looked up and saw the rich men cast- 
ing their gifts into the treasury. And He saw 
also a certain poor widow casting in thither two 
mites. 

And He said, " Of a truth I say unto you that 
this poor widow hath cast in more than they all ; 
for all these have of their abundance cast in unto 
the offerings of God ; but she of her penury hath 
cast in all the living that she had." 



* 



* 



280 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



©ucsiiat) in §olt) tlkek- 



Cjjrist's &gmpHijjg. 



Jesus came on earth again, 
And walked and talked in field and street, 
Who would not lay his human pain 
Low at those heavenly feet ? 

And leave the loom, and leave the lute, 
And leave the volume on the shelf, 

To follow Him unquestioning, mute, 
If 'twere the Lord Himself ? 

How many a brow with care o'erworn, 
How many a heart with grief o'erladen, 

How many a man with woe forlorn, 
How many a mourning maiden, 

Would leave the baffling earthly prize, 
Which fails the earthly weak endeavor, 

To gaze into those holy eyes, 
And drink content for ever ! 

I 



i^oi 



jT . J1— Hill II I llll ill II I II III 1 1 I 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

His sheep along the cool, the shade, 
By the still watercourse He leads ; 

His lambs upon His breast are laid ; 
His hungry ones He feeds. 

And I, where'er He went, would go, 

Nor question where the paths might lead, 

Enough to know that here below 
I walked with God, indeed ! 



28l 



If it be thus, O Lord of mine, 

In absence is Thy love forgot ? 
And must I, when I walk, repine, 

Because I see Thee not ? 

If this be thus, if this be thus, 

Since our poor prayers yet reach Thee, Lord ; 
Since we are weak, once more to us 

Reveal the living Word ! 

Oh, nearer to me, in the dark 

Of life's low hours, one moment stand, 

And give me keener eyes to mark 
The moving of Thy hand. 

Owen Meredith. 

HE history of Tuesday is fuller than 
of any other day in Holy Week. 
First comes the walk of the 
twelve Apostles and their Lord 
from Bethany, at early morning ; 
when they remarked how the fig-tree, which had 




*« 



282 A ROSARY FOR LEFT. 

been cursed twenty-four hours before, stood 
blighted and blasted in the spot where yes- 
terday morning it had looked so fair and flou- 
rishing. Repairing, as usual, to the Tem- 
ple, the Saviour is encountered by many 
enemies ; who doubtless foresaw that His 
intention was, throughout this week, to pre- 
sent Himself daily in the Sanctuary of God ; but 
He put them to silence with a question respect- 
ing the Baptism of John ; and then delivered the 
parables of the Two Sons, and- of the Vineyard 
let out to Husbandmen. In consequence of these 
discourses (the prophetic character of which they 
at once perceived), our Lord's enemies sought to 
lay hands on Him ; but were deterred through 
fear of the populace. Next, the parable of the 
King's Son was added ; after which the Phari- 
sees and the Herodians proved Him with a ques- 
tion, respecting the payment of tribute. The 
Sadducees next assailed our Lord, and were 
quickly confounded out of their own books. 
Whereupon the Scribes assailed our Saviour with 
an inquiry respecting the law. But after our 
Lord's reply, we hear that none durst ask Him 
any more questions. In turn, He also put one 
question, which the Pharisees were not able to 
answer ; whereby He silenced them for ever. 
This done, He denounced eight woes upon the 



*' 



A BOS ART FOB LENT. 



283 



Pharisees and Sadducees ; ending with that pas- 
sionate lament for Jerusalem : " How often would 
I have gathered thy children together, even aj a 
hen gathereth her chickens under her wings ; 
and ye would not ! " And Jesus sat over against 
the Treasury, and He looked up and saw the rich 
men casting their gifts into the Treasury ; and 
He saw also a certain poor widow casting in 
thither two mites. 

He arose and left the Temple with His dis- 
ciples ; prophesying its destruction, as He lin- 
gered for a moment on its threshold. Then, 
taking His seat on the Mount of Olives, the 
Temple spread out before Him, and all the beau- 
tiful buildings of Jerusalem full in view, — in 
reply to the earnest questionings of Peter and 
James, and John and Andrew, He spake of when 
these things should be ; and of what should be 
the sign of His coming ; and of the end of the 
world ; in Heaven, the sun darkened, and the 
moon forgetting to give her light ; and the stars 
falling, like fruits from the tree ; on earth dis- 
tress of nations, with perplexity ; the sea and the 
waves roaring ; men's hearts failing them for 
fear, and for looking after those things which are 
coming on the earth. Lastly, the coming of the 
Son of Man, in glory, and all His holy angels 
with Him ! 



nan 



284 A ROSARY FOE LENT. 

The parables of the wise and foolish Virgins, 
and of the Talents, followed ; and our Lord de- 
scribed how the just and the wicked shall be 
dealt with in the Last Day ; after which, it being 
night, He went out, and abode in the Mount of 
Olives. 

Now, the one circumstance in all this wondrous 
and varied narrative, to which we wish to call 
attention, is, that amid all these mighty discourses 
and amazing prophecies ; amid all the weariness 
of His human body, and the anguish of His 
human soul ; amid griefs unrevealed, and bitter- 
ness of spirit unutterable, the Lord of heaven 
and earth was at leisure to sit down and watch 
the ways of one of the very humblest of His crea- 
tures. " He saw also a certain poor widow." * * 
After His eight withering woes denounced upon 
the Scribes and Pharisees, which must have 
goaded them to madness (for they were at once 
the proudest and the most powerful of the people), 
after this, and just before He entered upon that 
far-sighted prophecy which glanced onward, from 
the coming destruction of the city to the very 
end of the world, — blending the near and the far 
future so wondrously, and showing that the 
Blessed Speaker's eye was filled with images of 
magnificence and grandeur unspeakable, — the 
destinies of the whole human race, and the con- 



* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



28< 



summation of all things : — (the moment is well 
worth observing, for it was the brief moment 
which separated the Saviour's discourse concern- 
ing the things of Time and of Eternity : the little 
halting-place between His leave-taking of His 
enemies, and His anticipation of the ruin which 
was to be wrought upon them ; first, by His 
avenging armies ; next, by His legions of an- 
gels) — it was at that particular instant, we re- 
peat, and therefore while His heart must have 
been occupied in the way we have been describ- 
ing, that our Lord, seating Himself over against 
the Treasury (that is, the alms-chests which were 
destined to receive the offerings of the people), 
looked up, and beheld how they cast money into 
the Treasury. And many that were rich cast in 
much. And there came a poor woman, and (as 
St. Luke remarks) "He saw her !" * * * He 
saw before Him the destruction of the Temple, 
and the fall of Jerusalem, and the wreck of 
Nature, and the crash of worlds, and the setting 
up of the great White Throne, and the gathering 
together of all the Tribes of the earth : all this 
He saw. But, "He saw also a certain poor 
widow? And she threw in two mites, which make 
a farthing. * * * He had the leisure, had 
the inclination, had the sovereign will, to scru- 
tinize the act, and to weigh it in a heavenly 



taitt 



'* 



286 A EOS ART FOR LENT. 

balance, and to pronounce upon it, — calmly, and 
at length, — as if life and death hung upon the 
issue. He called unto Him His disciples, and 
saith unto them, " Verily, I say unto you that 
this poor widow hath cast in more than they all. 
For all they did cast in of their abundance ; but 
she, of her want, did cast in all she had ; even 
all her living." 

These gracious words on the lips of our Saviour 
awaken in us a deep sense of wonder and admi- 
ration : they remind us of all we have ever heard 
or read concerning " the widow's mite." But we 
cannot now afford space for any reflections on 
the transaction itself. No : we desire to fill our 
minds with the single thought of God's watchful 
and observing eye ; which nothing is so little as 
to escape ; nothing so trifling as not to interest 
and engage. The Psalmist has expressed this 
in a single verse of the cxiii. Psalm, — ". Who is 
like unto the Lord our God, that hath His dwell- 
ing so high ; and yet humbleth Himself to be- 
hold the things that are in heaven and earth ? " 

Strange as it may appear, we have great need 
to fill our minds with this thought ; and to con- 
vince ourselves of its truth and constancy. It 
is hard to realize the notion of a Providence 
which really takes note of the fall of a sparrow, 
and numbers the very hairs of our head. We 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



287 



I 






all profess to believe it ; but it may well be sus- 
pected that there are few indeed who truly en- 
tertain the notion of such perfect knowledge, 
such watchful love, as we are describing. It is 
not difficult to embrace the conviction that a 
mighty empire is the object: of God's care ; be- 
cause to us a great empire seems a great thing ; 
but, that the fortune of the meanest person 
within that realm, in all its minutest details, 
should be equally the subject of His concern, this 
seems hardly credible. So again, we find no dif- 
ficulty in believing that the more considerable 
events in our own lives are duly noted in the 
Book of God's remembrance, because they are, 
to us, all in all ; but the various petty chances 
which day by day befall us ; the many minute 
acts which go to form a habit, and which together 
make up a character, — these, because they seem 
to ourselves so very petty, we are inclined to be- 
lieve may be by God altogether unheeded. Thus 
we make ourselves the standard of all things ; 
and even judge of God's eternal attributes by 
the measure of our own imperfections. 

Surely, we shall do well at this time to try to 
banish from our minds so serious a mistake ; 
serious, because this habit of regarding some 
things as little with God, lies at the root of all 
sin ; and occasions that practical infidelity of 



288 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

which men are guilty as often as they speak, as 
if they were overlooked by His Providence ; un- 
cared for, and as it were forsaken by Him : their 
trials unmeasured, their tears unnoted, their in- 
ward bitterness a secret to God as well as to 
man. Let it be ours to remember that we have 
to do with One who doth indeed measure the 
waters in the hollow of His hand, and mete out 
Heaven with the span, and comprehend the dust 
of the earth in a measure, and weigh the moun- 
tains in scales and the hills in a balance, — yet, 
who feedeth His flock like a shepherd, and ga- 
thereth the lambs with His arm. 



»|« BMggjitfjg&ejifji/jji,^^ s|« 



* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



289 



ttkbnes&aB in §oh) ttkck- 



®jje gefrapl. 




OW the feast of unleavened bread 
drew nigh, which is called the Pass- 
over. 

And the Chief Priests and Scribes 
sought how they might kill Him ; 
for they feared the people. 

Then entered Satan into Judas surnamed 
Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve. 

And he went his way, and communed with the 
Chief Priests and Captains how he might betray 
Him unto them. 

And they were glad, and covenanted to give 
him money. 

And he promised, and sought opportunity to 
betray Him unto them, in the absence of the 
multitude. 

13 



*' 



ssa 



tmaasck 



*' 



*' 



29O A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



tDeimesbay in ^olu tOcek* 



lubas Iscariot. 



vD all ye, who pass by, whose eyes and mind 
To worldly things are sharp, but to Me blind ; 
To Me, who took eyes that I might you find ; 

Was ever grief like Mine ? 

Mine own apostle, who the bag did bear, 
Though he had all I had, did not forbear 
To sell Me also, and to put Me there : 

Was ever grief like Mine ? 

For thirty pence he did My death devise, 
Who at three hundred did the ointment prize, 
Not half so sweet as My sweet sacrifice : 

Was ever grief like Mine ? 



mfm mmmammmmmmm ,mmtmmm mmmmummmmmmmmmmimmmm 



U 




A ROSARY FOR LENT. 29 1 

Therefore My soul melts, and My heart's dear treasure 
Drops blood (the only beads) My words to measure ; 
Oh, let this cup pass, if it be Thy pleasure : 

Was ever grief like Mine ? 

Herbert. 

jHE exact history of Wednesday in 
Holy Week is, it must be confessed, 
somewhat doubtful. What at least 
is certain, — Judas, as on this day, 
made his wicked compact with the 
Chief Priests to betray his Lord to them, for 
money ; and truly so astonishing a transaction, 
so black and revolting a crime, may well have 
the thoughts of a whole day to itself. The event 
of to-day has been felt in fa6l by the Church from 
the earliest period to be so tremendous, that all 
the Wednesdays in the year derive from the 
Wednesday in Holy Week a character of solem- 
nity second only to that which the sacrifice of 
our Lord's death on Good-Friday has imparted 
to all the other Fridays in the year. 

On reviewing the sacred record of the trans- 
actions thus brought under our notice, how many 
thoughts force themselves upon us ! How un- 
lovely seem our gains ! and how unblessed a thing, 
until God hath blessed it, seems the pursuit of 
gain ! How subtle, also, must the snare be which 
could lure an Apostle into the betrayal of the in- 



*■ 



■* 



292 A EOSAET FOR LENT. 

nocent blood ; and that blood, the blood of 
Him who came into the world to save the 
world ! 

Then, further, how unavailing do the loftiest 
opportunities, the most precious privileges, prove 
to be, in and by themselves, to promote our chief- 
est good ! The several trains of thought thus 
suggested, we may follow out with advantage for 
ourselves in private. It is proposed now to de- 
rive another lesson from the crime of Judas ; 
which may indeed be regarded as the very mys- 
tery of iniquity, and as containing within itself 
the whole history of sin. 

Above all things, probably, we are here struck 
with the deadening, hardening effect of sin upon 
the heart. Else, surely, the words of Christ 
would have melted Judas, many a time, into sor- 
row, — wrought in him repentance, — awakened in 
him some natural touch of pity. It was his 
Friend whom he was about to betray, — his Bene- 
factor whom he was about to injure so irrepa- 
rably : the One who had walked with him, and 
always in meekness and love, for three years and 
upwards. For a miserable sum of money he was 
about to work the ruin of One who had displayed 
so many a time in his presence Almighty power ; 
yea, who had conferred on himself the gift of 
working miracles. He was going to deliver into 



-* 



A ROSA BY FOB LENT. 293 

the hands of men, thirsting (as he was well aware) 
for nothing less than the blood of their victim, 
the holy Being who had gone about doing good 
to all — curing diseases — relieving want — preach- 
ing the Gospel — for the space of three years. 
He would have to look upon that sacred fore- 
head bruised with stones ; those lips, silenced 
for ever ; those hands, powerless ; those limbs, 
stark and cold. Never more, if he effected his ac- 
cursed purpose, — never more by the hillside could 
they take their simple meal together ; sweetened 
by His solemn converse, made a holy thing by 
His blessing ! * * * Never more by the 
Lake, or upon its gray waters, or along its fur- 
ther coast, would they be found, — those twelve 
disciples and their Lord ; the words of eternal 
life flowing the while from His lips, " sweeter 
than honey or the honeycomb." * * * Never 
more in the Garden would they rest at evening 
together ; seeing Him engaged in mysterious 
prayer, while they watched and prayed yonder ! 
* * * Meantime what was to be the Traitor's 
compensation for all he was to lose ? What was 
to be his miserable solace for beholding bloody 
violence done to the person of Christ ; cruelty 
and ferocity, and in the end death itself ? It is 
hard to believe that " thirty pieces of silver " was 
" the goodly price that He was prized at : " that 



*' 



294 ^ BOSARY FOR LENT. 

for " thirty pieces of silver " Judas was content 
to lose his soul. 

We shall miss the benefit of this warning, we 
shall indeed, if we suffer our minds to dwell 
simply upon this latter circumstance ; or indeed 
to dwell upon it at all. We do notibr an instant 
suppose that any one present, that we ourselves, 
could be induced to commit a monstrous crime 
for a paltry sum of money. God grant that none 
of us may ever become in any degree the slaves 
of the special lust which proved the undoing of 
Judas ! No. If we desire to profit by the warn- 
ing of the Gospel, the warning of this day's his- 
tory, we shall notice rather the hardening, dead- 
ening effects of sin, — any kind of sin, — upon the 
heart. It has often been remarked (and it would 
seem with great truth) that cruelty and hist com- 
monly go together. They appear widely severed. 
Softness and indulgence, — the yielding to appe- 
tite and inclination, — this whole class of crimes, 
it might be thought, would shrink from violence 
and cruelty ; from bloodshed, and the like. But 
it is not so. Sensual appetite is found to harden 
the heart quite as much, more perhaps, than 
covetousness itself. Potiphar's wife was content 
that Joseph should dwell in prison. Doubtless, 
she would have endured his death likewise, un- 
disturbed. Herodias wanted to see the bleeding 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



295 



head of John the Baptist in a dish. She desired 
to feast her impure eyes on the lifeless features 
of him whose stern rebukes had alone interfered 
with her guilty pleasures. Consider, again, how 
David's shameful love for Bathsheba could make 
him plan Uriah's death : not only take the little 
ewe-lamb from the poor man, but even become 
the murderer of him to whom it belonged ! 

Indeed, that the general tendency of sin, of 
whatever kind, is to harden the heart, to darken 
the conscience, to blind the inner eye, there can 
be no doubt. Still, one would not have thought 
that it could so deaden the natural instincts of 
humanity as, in the case of Judas, it is found to 
have done. Let us take warning, humbly, each 
one of us, to ourselves. Our Lord pleaded with 
Judas most tenderly, but it availed not. If the 
warnings secret and open, which the Traitor re- 
ceived at the lips of Christ, from first to last, are 
added up, those at the close of the Gospel his- 
tory especially, we shall be surprised at their fre- 
quency, their earnestness, their particularity. 
But it was all in vain. He was like the deaf 
adder, which stoppeth her ears, and refuseth to 
hear the voice of the charmer, charm he never 
so wisely. The fact is thus adverted to only to 
show that beyond a certain point the very plead- 
ings of Divine Love, the strivings of God's in- 



E * 



296 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

dwelling Spirit, — grieved, yet still indwelling, — 
may be, must be, in vain. 

And it is worth our observing, in connexion 
with this subject, that the Divinity of Christ's 
person cannot have been so apparent a matter, 
as, in our devotion towards our Redeemer and 
our God, we are sometimes apt to imagine. There 
must have been a very thick mantle spread over 
His Godhead. The glory of His Deity must 
have been curtained close ; so very close, that 
scarcely a ray, — if even so much as a ray, — could 
ever break through, and meet the eyes of men. 
Everything in the Gospel helps to show this. 
He spoke like a Galilean. No one is ever said 
to have been struck by His aspect. His voice 
did not, by any means, always persuade. His 
speech was cavilled at. Men asked Him to de- 
part out of their coasts. Towards the close of 
His ministry, — as every day's Gospel reminds us, 
till our hearts sicken at the dismal tale, — soldiers 
could strike Him with their fists, and smite Him 
with their open palms ; blindfold Him ; force a 
thorny crown into His temples ; scourge Him ; 
spit upon Him ; torture His parched lips with 
gall ; crucify Him ; thrust a spear into His life- 
less side. Now, we know what might have been, 
had He willed. Once only He appeared to three 
of His disciples, in the nearest approach to His 



* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



297 



proper glory, which their mortal eyes could bear 
to look upon and live : and next day, when He 
descended the Holy Mount, the multitude " came 
running to Him." But this was only for a mo- 
ment. It soon passed away. In His person 
then, and doubtless in many other respects also, 
our Lord's Divinity was not very apparent, — 
could not have been very apparent, — while He 
was on earth, or men would not have rejected 
Him ; His own nation would not have crucified 
Him ; Judas would not have betrayed Him for 
thirty pieces of silver. To a few the Divinity of 
His sayings was doubtless known : by some 
few, in His person, He was seen to be "fairer 
than the children of men." Yea, the blind eyes 
could behold Him ; the deaf ears were enrap- 
tured by His voice. And this brings us back 
exactly to what we desire to enforce ; namely, 
that it depends on the heart of man whether 
Christ shall be recognised or not ; whether (like 
Judas) we shall discern Him nowhere, — neither 
in His Word nor in His Sacraments ; or whether 
it shall seem to us that He beautifies our lives 
with His abiding presence, and encircles us with 
countless tokens of His enduring love. It is sin 
that hardens the heart, and darkens the inner 
eye ; whereas, " Blessed are the pure in heart " 
(it is written), " for they shall see God." 

Burgon. 

T ?* 

1 u 



+' 



298 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



love Thou comest to Thine own, 

But by Thine own rejected art ; 
A place wherein to lay Thy head, 

Jerusalem will not impart. 
In her there is no room for Thee ; 
Thy home is lowly Bethany. 

O Man of Sorrows ! drear and rude 
The path that now before Thee lies, 

Gethsemane, the bitter cup, 

Depths of unfathom'd agonies ; 

The weight of woes that on Thee lay, 

Nailed to the cross at Golgotha. 

But through that fierce and furious storm, 
Through all the hurricane and shock 

Of mockery and fiendish hate, 

That beat like surges on the Rock, 

God brings Thee to the crystal sea 

Of glorious immortality. 

O Saviour, Thine example shines 
With splendor luminous, and pure, 

To all on life's dark billows tost, 
Like to the polar Cynosure ; 

Guide us in meekness, Lord, with Thee, 

To calms of blest eternity. 

Dr. Wordsworth. 






*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



299 



Styursbai) in §olu iJDtek. 



&{je JTasi Supper. 




I HE first day of unleavened bread, 
when they killed the passover, His 
disciples said unto Him, " Where 
wilt Thou that we go and prepare, 

that Thou mayest eat the pass- 

v> 
over r 

And He sendeth forth two of His disciples, 
and saith unto them, " Go ye into the city, and 
there shall meet you a man bearing a pitcher of 
water : follow him. 

" And wheresoever he shall go in, say ye to 
the good man of the house, ' The Master saith, 
where is the guest chamber, where I shall eat 
the passover with my disciples ? ' 

" And he will show you a large upper room 



miMwrwf ittM&ytwni&x w|* 



300 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

furnished and prepared : there make ready for 
us." 

And His disciples went forth, and came into 
the city, and found as He had said unto them : 
and they made ready the passover. 

And in the evening He cometh with the twelve. 

And as they did eat, Jesus took bread, and 
blessed, and brake it, and gave to them, and said, 
" Take, eat ; this is My body." 

And He took the cup, and when He had given 
thanks, He gave it to them, and they all drank 
of it. 

And He said unto them, " This is My blood 
of the New Testament, which is shed for many. 

" Verily I say unto you, I will drink no more 
of the fruit of the vine, until that day that I drink 
it new in the kingdom of God." 

And when they had sung an hymn they went 
out into the Mount of Olives. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 301 



Styursftas in ^olg tDeek- 



($rijj&mHite. 



^JW$ disciples sleep : I cannot gain 
One hour of watching ; but their drowsy brain 
Comforts not Me, and doth My doctrine stain ; 
Was ever grief like Mine ? 

Arise, arise, they come. Look how they run ! 
Alas ! what haste they make to be undone ! 
How with their lanterns do they seek the sun ! 
Was ever grief like Mine ? 

With clubs and staves they seek Me as a thief, 
Who am the way of truth, the true relief; 
Most true to those who are My greatest grief : 
Was ever grief like Mine ? 

Judas, dost thou betray Me with a kiss ? 
Canst thou find hell about My lips ? and miss 
Of life, just at the gates of life and bliss ? 
Was ever grief like Mine ? 



* 



S2SBMES3*B 



;02 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

See, they lay hold on Me, not with the hands 
Of faith, but fury ; yet at their commands 
I suffer binding, who have loosed their bands ; 
Was ever grief like Mine ? 

All My disciples fly ; fear puts a bar 
Betwixt My friends and Me. They leave the Star 
That brought the wise men of the East from far : 
Was ever grief like Mine ? 

Herbert, 

Mark xiv. 41-42. 

|ND He cometh the third time, and 
saith unto them, sleep on now, and 
take your rest ; it is enough, the 
hour is come ; behold, the Son of 
Man is betrayed into the hands of 
sinners. Rise up, let us go ; lo, he that be- 
trayeth Me is at hand." 

It is upon two sentences of this passage that 
our attention is to be fixed to-day ; sentences 
which in themselves are apparently contra- 
dictory, but which are pregnant with a lesson 
of the deepest practical import. Looked at 
in the mere meaning of the words, as they stand, 
our Lord's first command, given to His disciples, 
" Sleep on now, and take your rest," is inconsis- 
tent with the second command, which follows 
almost in the same breath, " Rise, let us be go- 




+ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 303 

ing." A permission to slumber and a warning 
to arouse at once, are injunctions which can 
scarcely stand together in the same sentence, 
consistently. 

Our first inquiry therefore is — What did our 
Redeemer mean ? We shall arrive at the true 
solution of this difficulty, if we review the cir- 
cumstances under which these words were spok- 
en. The account with which these verses stand 
connected belongs to one of the last scenes in 
the drama of our Master's earthly pilgrimage ; it 
is found in the history of the trial hour which 
was passed in the Garden of Gethsemane. And 
an hour it was indeed big with the destinies of 
the world ; for the command had gone forth to 
seize the Saviour's person ; but the Saviour was 
still at large, and free. Upon the success or the 
frustration of that plan the world's fate was trem- 
bling. Three men were selected to be witnesses 
of the sufferings of that hour : three men, the 
favored ones on all occasions of the apostolic 
band, — and the single injunction which had been 
laid upon them was, " Watch with Me one hour." 
That charge to watch, or keep awake, seems to 
have been given with two ends in view. He 
asked them to keep awake, first, that they might 
sympathize with Him. He commanded them to 
keep awake, that they might be on their guard 



* 



304 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

against surprise ; that they might afford sym- 
pathy, because never in all His career did Christ 
more stand in need of such soothing as it was in 
the power of man to give. 

It is true, that was not much : the struggle 
and the agony, and the making up of the mind 
to death, had something in them too divine and 
too mysterious to be understood by the disciples, 
and therefore sympathy could but reach a por- 
tion of what our Redeemer felt. Yet still, it ap- 
pears to have been an additional pang in Christ's 
anguish to find that He was left thoroughly alone 
to endure ; while even His own friends did not 
compassionate His endurance. We know what 
a relief it is to see the honest, affectionate face 
of a menial servant, or some poor dependent, re- 
gretting that your suffering may be infinitely 
above his comprehension. It may be a secret, 
which you cannot impart to him ; or it may be a 
mental distress, which his mind is too uneducated 
to appreciate ; yet still his sympathy in your 
dark hour is worth a world. What you suffer he 
knows not ; but he knows you do suffer, and it 
pains him to think of it : there is balm to you in 
that. This is the power of sympathy. We can 
do little for one another in this world. Little, 
very little, can be done when the worst must 
come ; but yet, to know that the pulses of a 



A BOS ART FOR LENT. 305 

human heart are vibrating with yours, there is 
something in that, let the distance between man 
and man be ever so immeasurable, exquisitely 
soothing. It was this, and but this, in the way 
of feeling, that Christ asked of Peter, James, and 
John. Watch, — be awake ; let Me not feel that 
when I agonize, you can be at ease and comfort- 
able. But it would seem there was another thing 
which He asked in the way of assistance. The 
plot to capture Him was laid ; the chance of that 
plot's success lay in making the surprise so sud- 
den as to cut off all possibility of escape. The 
hope of defeating that plot depended upon the 
fidelity of apostolic vigilance. Humanly speaking 
had they been vigilant, they might have saved 
Him. Breathless, listening for the sound of foot- 
steps in the distance ; eyes anxiously straining 
through the trees, to distinguish the glitter of the 
lanterns ; unremitting apprehension ; catching 
from the word of Christ an intimation that He 
was in danger, and so giving notice on the 
first approach of anything like intrusion, — that 
would have been watching. 

That command to watch was given twice ; 
first, when Christ first retired aside, leaving the 
disciples by themselves ; secondly, in a reproach- 
ful way, when He returned and found His re- 
quest disregarded. He waked them up once, and 



-* 



306 .4 ROSARY FOR LENT. 

said, " What, could you not watch with Me one 
hour ? " He came again, and found their eyes 
closed once more. On that occasion not a sylla- 
ble fell" from His lips ; He did not waken them 
a second time ; He passed away, sad and disap- 
pointed, and left them to their slumbers. But 
when He came the third time it was no longer 
possible for their sleep to do Him harm, or their 
watching to do Him good. The precious oppor- 
tunity was lost for ever. Sympathy, vigilance, 
the hour for these was past. The priests had 
succeeded in their surprise, and Judas had well 
led them through the dark, with unerring accu- 
racy, to the very spot where his Master knelt ; 
and there were seen quite close the dark figures 
shown in relief against the glare of the red torch- 
light, and every now and then the gleam glitter- 
ing from the bared steel and the Roman armor. 
It was all over ; they might sleep as they liked ; 
their sleeping could do no injury now, their 
watching could do no good. And therefore, 
partly in bitterness, partly in reproach, partly in 
a kind of earnest irony, partly in sad earnest, 
our Master said to His disciples, Sleep on now ; 
there is no use in watching now ; take your rest 
for ever, if you will ; sleep and rest can do Me 
no more harm now, for all that watching might 
have done is lost. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



307 



But, brethren, we have to observe, that in the 
next sentence our Redeemer addresses Himself 
to the consideration of what could yet be done ; 
the best thing, as circumstances then stood. So 
far as any good to be got from watching went, 
they might sleep on ; there was no reparation 
for the fault that had been done ; but so far as 
duty went, there was still much of endurance 
to which they had to rouse themselves. They 
could not save their Master, but they might loy- 
ally and manfully share His disgrace, and if it 
must be, His death. They could not put off 
the penalty, but they might steel themselves 
cheerfully to share it. Safety was out of the 
question now ; but they might meet their 
fate instead of being overwhelmed by it ; and 
so, as respected what was gone by, Christ said, 
" Sleep ;" what is done cannot be undone ; but 
as respected the duties that were lying before 
them still, He said, We must make the best of it 
that can be made ; rouse yourselves to dare the 
worst ; on to enact your parts like men. Rise, 
let us be going, we have something still left to 
do. 

The words of Christ are not like the words of 
other men : His sentences do not end with the 
occasion which called them forth : every sentence 
of Christ's is a deep principle of human life ; and 



■nm 



•M 



-* 



308 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

it is so with these sentences. " Sleep on now ;" 
that is a principle. " Rise up, and let us be go- 
ing ; " that is another principle. The principle 
contained in " sleep on now " is this, that the 
past is irreparable ; and after a certain moment, 
waking will do no good. You may improve the 
future, — the past is gone beyond recovery. As 
to all that is gone by, so far as the hope of alter- 
ing it goes, you may sleep on, and take your rest : 
there is no power in earth or heaven that can 
undo what has once been done. 

Our Master did not limit His apostles to a re- 
gretful recollection of their failure. Recollection 
of it He did demand. There were the materials 
of a most cutting self-reproach in the few words 
He said ; for they contained all the desolation of 
that sad word, Never. Who knows not what that 
word wraps up? Never, — it never can be un- 
done ! Sleep on ; but yet there was no sickly 
lingering over the irreparable. Our Master's 
words are the words of one who had fully recog- 
nised the hopelessness of his position, but yet 
manfully and calmly had numbered his resources, 
and scanned his duties, and then braced up his 
mind to meet the exigencies of his situation with 
no passive endurance : the moment was come for 
action ; " Rise, let us be going." 

Now, the broad, general lesson which we gain 



*■ 



►H ■ 



— * 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 309 

from this is not hard to read. It is, that a Chris- 
tian is to be forever rousing himself to recognise 
the duties which lie before him now. In Christ, 
the motto is ever this, "Let us be going." Let 
me speak to the conscience of some one. Per- 
haps yours is a very remorseful past ; a foolish, 
frivolous, disgraceful, frittered past. Well, Christ 
says, — My servant, be sad, but no languor ; there 
is work to be done for Me yet. Rise up, be 
going ! Oh, my brethren, Christ takes your 
wretched remnants of life, — the feeble pulses of 
a heart which has spent its best hours, not for 
Him, but for self and for enjoyment, — and in 
His strange love, He condescends to accept 
them. 

Under no circumstances, whether of pain, 
or grief, or disappointment, or irreparable mis- 
take, can it be true that there is not something 
to be done, as well as something to be suffered. 
And thus it is that the spirit of Christianity 
draws over our life, not a leaden cloud of remorse 
and despondency, but a sky ; not perhaps of ra- 
diant, but yet of most serene, and chastened, and 
manly hope. There is a past which is gone for 
ever. But there is a future which is still our 
own. 

Robertson. 



*■ 



3io 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



|2Vt the supper with the Twelve, 

Thou, O Christ, wast seated ; 
And hadst prophesied Thy death, 

Soon to be completed : 
And hadst pointed Judas out 

By the morsel meted ; 
And unto Gethsemane 

After, hadst retreated. 

Prostrate fell the Lord of all, 

Where He had proceeded ; 
That the cup might pass away, 

Earnestly He pleaded : 
But unto His Father's will 

That His own conceded : 
And forthwith a sweat of Blood 

O'er his members speeded. 

After that, the Traitor's Kiss 
Judas came to proffer : 
" Wherefore com'st thou, friend ?" the Lord 

Saith unto the scoffer. 
" Thou to Him whom thou hast sold, 
Salutation offer ? 
Thou, who hadst the price of blood 
From His murderers' coffer ? " 

All the weary, livelong night, 

Neither rest nor sleeping ; 
Armed bands of soldiery 

Watch round Jesus keeping ; 
Priests and Scribes upon His head 

Foul reproaches heaping ; 
Who might see the Spotless Lamb, 

And refrain from weeping ? 

From a Hyvit. of thg Twtlfth Century. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



311 



ooft-ifrtoat). 



£Ije Crnctfitton. 




HEN Pilate, therefore, took Jesus, 
and scourged Him. And the sol- 
diers platted a crown of thorns, and 
put it on His head ; and they put 
on Him a purple robe, and said, 
" Hail, King of the Jews ! " And they smote 
Him with their hands. 

Pilate, therefore, went forth again, and saith 
unto them, " Behold, I bring Him forth to you, 
that ye may know that I find no fault in Him." 

Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of 
thorns and the purple robe. And Pilate saith 
unto 'them, " Behold the Man ! " 

Then delivered he Him, therefore, unto them, 



312 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led 
Him away. 

And He, bearing His cross, went forth into a 
place called the place of a skull, which is called 
in Hebrew Golgotha : where they crucified Him, 
and two others with Him, on either side one, and 
Jesus in the midst. 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 313 



©oob-jfribat). 



% \t Cross. 



%V to the Hill of Calvary, 

With Christ our Lord ascending, 
We deem that Cross our victory, 

'Neath which His knees are bending. 
What soldier is of generous strain ? 

One honor let him cherish : 
With Christ upon the battle plain 

A thousand times to perish ! 

On must the faithful warrior go, 

Whereso the Chief proceedeth ; 
And all true hearts will seek the foe 

Where'er the Banner leadeth : 
Our highest victory, — it is loss : 

No cup hath such completeness 
Of gall, but that remembered Cross 

Will turn it into sweetness ! 
14 



314 A ROSARY FOR LENT, 

Doth sickness hover o'er thy head, 

In weakness art thou lying ? 
Behold upon the Cross's bed 

Thy sick Physician dying ! 
No member in the holy frame 

That there for thee must languish, 
But what thy pride hath clothed with shame, 

But what thy sin, with anguish ! 

Have wealth and honor spread their wing, 

And left thee all unfriended ? 
See naked on the Cross thy King, 

And thy regrets are ended. 
The fox hath where to lay his head, 

Her nest receives the sparrow ; 
Thy Monarch, for His latest bed 

One plank hath, hard and narrow ! 

Thy good name suffers from the tongue 

Of slanderers and oppressors, 
Jesus, as on the cross He hung, 

Was reckoned with transgressors. 
More than the nails and than the spear 

His sacred limbs assailing, 
Judea's children pierced His ear 

With blasphemy and railing. 

Fearest thou the death that comes to all, 

And knows no interceder ? 
O glorious struggle ! — thou wilt fall 

The soldier by the Leader ! 
Christ went with death to grapple first, 

And vanquished him before thee ; 



* 



zaoB 



SH3CS 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

His darts then, let him do his worst, 
Can win no triumph o'er thee. 

And if thy conscience brands each sense 

With many a past defilement, 
Here by the fruits of penitence, 

Hope thou for reconcilement ! 
For He who bowed His holy head, 

In death serenely sleeping, 
Hath grace on contrite hearts to shed, 

And pardon for the weeping ! " Amen." 



315 




AS not our Lord indeed the per- 
fectly brave man — the man who 
endured more than all living men 
put together, at the very time that 
He had the most intense fear of 
what He was going to suffer ? And stranger 
still, endured it of His own will, while He had 
it in His power to shake it all off any instant, 
and free Himself utterly from pain and suffer- 
ing. 

Now this speech of our Lord's in the text 
("Let us go into Judea again") is just a case 
of true fortitude. He was beyond Jordan. He 
had been forced to escape thither to save His 
life from the mad, blinded Jews. He had no 
foolhardiness ; He knew that He had no more 
right than we have to put His life in dan- 
ger when there was no good to be done by it. 



* 



SB 



3l6 A EOSAEY FOE LENT. 

But now there was good to be done by it. La- 
zarus was dead, and He wanted to raise him 
to life ; therefore He said to His disciples, " Let 
us go into Judea again." They knew the dan- 
ger ; they said, " Master, the Jews of late sought 
to stone Thee, and goest Thou thither again ? " 
But He would go : He had a work to do, and He 
dared bear anything to do His work. Aye, here 
is the secret ; this is the feeling which gives a 
man true courage, the feeling that he has a work 
to do at all costs, the sense of duty. And now, 
remember that there was no pride, no want of 
feeling to keep up our Lord's courage. He has 
tasted sorrow for every man, woman, and child, 
and therefore He has tasted fear also ; tempted 
in all things, like as we are, that in all things He 
might be touched with the feeling of our infirmi- 
ties, that there might be no poor soul terrified at 
the thought of pain or sorrow, but could comfort 
themselves with the thought, Well, the Son of 
God knows what fear is. He who said that His 
soul was troubled— He who at the thought of 
death was in such agony of terror, that His sweat 
ran down to the ground like great drops of blood 
— He who cried in His agony, " Father, if it be 
possible, let this cup pass from me," He under- 
stands my pain ; He tells me not to be ashamed 
of crying in my pain, like Him : " Father, if it 



.* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



317 



be possible, let this cup pass from me," for He 
will give me strength to finish that prayer of 
His, and in the midst of my trouble say, " Never- 
theless, Father, not as I will, but as Thou wilt." 
Remember, again, that our Lord was not, like the 
martyrs of old, forced to undergo His sufferings 
whether He liked them or not. We are too apt 
to forget that, and therefore we misunderstand 
our Lord's example, and therefore we misunder- 
stand what true fortitude is. Jesus Christ was 
the Son of God ; He had made the very men 
who were tormenting Him ; He had made the 
very wood of the cross on which He hung, the 
iron which pierced His blessed hands ; and for 
aught we know, one wish of His, and they would 
all have crumbled into dust, and He have been 
safe in a moment. But He would not. He 
endured the cross. He was the only man who 
ever really endured anything, because He alone, 
of all men, had perfect power to save Him- 
self, even when He was nailed to the tree, faint- 
ing, bleeding, dying. It was never too late for 
Him to stop. As He said to Peter when he 
wanted to fight for Christ : " Thinkest thou that 
I cannot now pray to my Father, and He shall 
presently give me more than twelve legions of 
angels ? " But He would not. He had to save the 



* 



3l8 .4 ROSARY FOR LENT. 

world, and He was determined to do it, whatever 
agony or fear it cost Him. 

Christ — the meekest of men, and the bravest 
too. And so books say, and seem to prove it, by 
many strange stories, that the lion, while he is 
the strongest and bravest of beasts of prey, is 
also the most patient and merciful. And so with 
our blessed Lord. The Bible calls Him the 
Lion of Judah ; but it also calls Him the Lamb, 
dumb before the shearers. Ah, my friends, we 
must come back to Him, for all the little that is 
great and noble in man or woman, or dumb 
beast even, is perfected in Him ; He only is per- 
fectly great, perfectly noble, brave, meek. He 
who, to save us sinful men, endured the cross, 
despising the shame, till He sat down at the 
right hand of the Majesty on high ; perfectly 
brave He is, and perfectly gentle, and will be so 
for ever ; for even at His second coming, when 
He shall appear the conqueror of hell, with tens 
of thousands of angels, to take vengeance on 
those who know not God, and destroy the wicked 
with the breath of his mouth, even then, in His 
fiercest anger, the Scriptures tell us, His anger 
shall be " the wrath of the Lamb." 

Almighty vengeance and just anger, and yet 
perfect gentleness and love all the while. Mys- 
tery of mysteries ! The wrath of the Lamb ! 



-msa2Bbsm& t%a 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



319 



May God give us all to feel in that day, not the 
wrath, but the love of the Lamb who was slain 
for us ! 



<3*tW I a stone, and not a sheep, 
That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross, 
To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss, 

And yet not weep ? 

Not so those women loved, 

Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee ; 

Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly ; 
Not so the thief was moved ; 

Not so the Sun and Moon, 

Which hid their faces in a starless sky, 
A horror of great darkness at broad noon, — 

I, only I. 

Yet give not o'er, 

But seek Thy sleep, true Shepherd of the flock ; 
Greater than Moses, turn and look once more, 

And smite a rock. 



<&ht fire to which our Heavenly Father had 
sacrificed His Son had long smouldered on the 
earth ; the wood of the cross gave it fresh vigor ; 
the oil of mercy which descended thereon in- 



* 



320 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

creased its fury. The blasphemies and invec- 
tives of the Jews swept around like a howling 
whirlwind, and fanned its flames to heaven. See 
even the stony heart of the thief is melted, he 
can no longer withstand the influence of a love 
so great ; the deepest compassion fills his soul, 
and he bursts forth into lamentations, not for his 
own, but for his Lord's unmerited sufferings. 



dm£ Royal Banners forward go, 
The Cross shines forth in mystic glow ; 
Where He in flesh, our flesh Who made, 
Our sentence bore, our ransom paid. 

Where deep for us the spear was dy'd, 
Life's torrent rushing from His side, 
To wash us in that precious flood, 
Where mingled water flowed, and blood. 

Fulfill'd is all that David told 

In true prophetic song of old ; 

Amidst the nations God, saith he, 

Hath reigned and triumph'd from the Tree. 

O Tree of Beauty ! Tree of Light ! 
O Tree with royal purple dight ! 
Elecl; on whose triumphal breast 
Those holy limbs should find their rest ! 



A BOSARY FOR LENT. 321 

On whose dear arms, so widely flung, 
The weight of this world's ransom hung : 
The price of human kind to pay, 
And spoil the Spoiler of his prey. 

O Cross, our one reliance, hail ! 
This holy Passiontide, avail 
To give fresh merit to the Saint, 
And pardon to the penitent. 

To Thee, Eternal Three in One, 
Let homage meet by all be done ; 
Whom by the cross Thou dost restore, 
Preserve and govern evermore. 



hast Thou done, O dearly loved Son of 
God, that thus Thou art judged ? What is the 
reason of Thy death ? What the grounds of 
Thy condemnation ? I — I am the lash of Thy 
scourge. I have brought Thee to the cross, 
with all its agonies. Oh, marvellous sentence, 
mysterious resolution ! the godless sin, and the 
Just One suffers ; what the wicked merit, the 
good endure ; what the servant owes, the Master 
pays ; what man commits, God takes upon Him- 
self. How deeply, O Lord, hast Thou condes- 
cended in this humility ! What grace, what be- 
nevolence, what love, what compassion hast Thou 

14* 



322 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

displayed ! I do evil, Thou bearest my chastise- 
ment ; I am proud, Thou abasest Thyself ; I am 
intemperate, Thou art an hungered ; I seek after 
enjoyment, Thou art pierced with nails ; I taste 
the sweetness of the apple, Thou the bitterness 
of gall ; with me Eve laughs and rejoices, with 
Thee Mary weeps and suffers. 



WUH the soldiers, straitly bound, 

Forth the Saviour fareth : 
Over all His holy Form, 

Bleeding wounds He beareth ; 
He a crown of woven thorns, 

King of Glory, weareth, 
And each one, with bended knee, 

Fresher taunts prepareth. 

They Thy mild and tender flesh, 

O Redeemer, baring, 
To the column bind Thee fast 

For the scourge preparing ; 
Thus the Ransom of our peace 

Cruel stripes are tearing, 
As the streams that flow therefrom 

Fully are declaring. 

After passed He through the street, 

As the morn grew older, 
And the heavy bitter cross 

Bare He on His shoulder : 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Thronged the windows and the doors 

Many a rude beholder ; 
But He found no comforter 

There, and no upholder. 



323 



Him, in open sight of men 

Manifestly shaming, 
To the wind and cold they bare, 

Utmost insults framing ; 
Guiltless, on the cross they lift 

With transgressors naming, 
Him, as midmost of the three, 

Chief of all proclaiming. 



On the wood His arms are stretched, 

And His hands are riven ; 
Through the tender flesh of Christ 

Mighty nails are driven ; 
In like wise His blessed feet 

Are to torture given, 
As the hands that had so oft 

In our battle striven. 



Streams of blood are trickling down 

From those holy sources ; 
Hither ! weak and sinful soul ! 

And renew thy forces ; 
This the medicine that shall cure 

Terrors and remorses ; 
This the writing that for us 

Freedom's deed endorses. 



BSaSBEi »4~4 



*> 



324 A BOSARY FOR LENT. 

Calling on Thy Father's name 

Thy last breath was spended ; 
And Thy Spirit in His hands 

Gently was commended ; 
With a loud and mighty cry 

Then Thy head was bended, 
And the work that brought Thee down, 

Of salvation, ended. 



But by heart and thought of man 

That is past conceiving, 
How the Virgin Mother's soul 

Inmostly was grieving 
When the soldier's bitter lance 

That dear side was cleaving ; 
Cruel mark upon His frame, 

Of its passage leaving. 



That blest form could feel no more, 

Whence had life departed ; 
'Twas the Mother's anguished soul 

'Neath the wound that smarted, 
When she marked how through His side 

That sharp lance was darted, 
And the streams of water thence, 

And of blood that started. 



Wherefore, sinner, haste to these 
Fountains of salvation ; 

Life thou mayest draw therefrom, 
And illumination : 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Cure thou mayest find for sin, 
Strength to meet temptation, 

Refuge may'st thou gain against 
Satan's condemnation. 



1 ~> " 



CD $0Ut of Jesus, sick to death ! 

Thy Blood and prayer together plead ; 
My sins have bowed Thee to the ground, 

As the storm b.ows the feeble reed. 



Midnight, and still the oppressive load 
Upon Thy tortured Heart doth lie ; 

Still the abhorred procession winds 
Before Thy spirit's quailing eye. 

Deep waters have come in, O Lord ! 

All darkly on Thy Human Soul ; 
And clouds of supernatural gloom 

Around Thee are allowed to roll. 

The weight of the Eternal wrath 

Drives over Thee with pressure dread ; 

And, forced upon the olive roots, 

In deathlike sadness droops Thy Head. 



Thy spirit weighs the sins of men ; 

Thy science fathoms all their guilt ; 
Thou sickenest heavily at Thy Heart, 

And the pores open, — Blood is spilt. 



326 A BOS ART FOB LENT. 

And Thou hast struggled with it, Lord ! 

Even to the limit of Thy strength ; 
While hours, whose minutes were as years, 

Slowly fulfilled their weary length, 

And Thou hast shuddered at each act, 
And shrunk with an astonished fear, 

As if thou could'st not bear to see 
The loathsomeness of sin so near. 

Sin and the Father's anger ! they 
Have made Thy lower nature faint ; 

All, save the love within Thy Heart, 
Seemed for the moment to be spent. 

My God ! My God ! and can it be, 
That I should sin so lightly now, 

And think no more of evil thoughts 

Than of the wind that waves the bough ? 



& 



I sin — and heaven and earth go round, 
As if no dreadful deed were done, 

As if God's Blood had never flowed 
To hinder sin or to atone. 

I walk the earth with lightsome step, 
Smile at the sunshine, breathe the air, 

Do my own will, nor ever heed 
Gethsemane and Thy long prayer. 

Shall it be alway thus, O Lord ? 

Wilt thou not work this hour in me 
The grace Thy Passion merited, 

Hatred of self and love of Thee ? 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Oh ! by the pains of Thy pure love, 
Grant me the gift of holy fear ; 

And give me of Thy bloody sweat 
To wash my guilty conscience clear ! 

Ever when tempted, make me see 

Beneath the olive's moon-pierced shade, 

My God, alone, outstretched, and bruised, 
And bleeding, on the earth He made. 

And make me feel it was my sin, 
As though no other sins there were, 

That was to Him who bears the world 
A load that He could scarcely bear. 



327 



I 



"It is Finished." 

S^Mtf is another aspect in which we may 
regard these words as spoken also for others. 
The way in which our Redeemer contemplated 
this life was altogether a peculiar one. He 
looked upon it, hot as a place of rest or pleasure, 
but simply, solely, as a place of duty. He was 
here to do His Father's will, not His own ; and 
therefore now that life was closed, He looked 
upon it chiefly as a duty that was fulfilled. We 
have the meaning of this in the seventeenth 
Chapter of this Gospel : " I have glorified Thee 



■am 



ma 



i£J 



>J« BE3B 



328 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

on earth ; I have finished the work which Thou 
gavest Me to do." The duty is done, the work 
is finished. Let us each apply this to ourselves. 
The hour is coming to ourselves ; indeed it is, 
perhaps, now come. The dark night settles 
down on each day. 

" It is finished." We are ever taking leave of 
something that will not come back again. We 
let go, with a pang, portion after portion of our 
existence. However dreary we may have felt 
life to be here, yet when that hour comes — the 
winding-up of all things ; the last grand rush of 
darkness on our spirits; the hour of that awful 
sudden wrench from all we have ever known or 
loved ; the long farewell to sun, moon, stars, and 
light — humbly and fearfully, what will then be 
finished ? When it is finished, what will it be ? 
Will it be the butterfly existence of pleasure, 
the mere life of science, a life of uninterrupted 
sin and selfish gratification ; or will it be, " Fa- 
ther, I have finished the work which Thou gavest 
me to do ? " 



v)fX t break, oh, break, hard heart of mine 
Thy weak self-love and guilty pride 

His Pilate and His Judas were ; 
Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 329 

Come, take thy stand beneath the Cross, 
And let the Blood from out that side 

Fall gently on thee, drop by drop ; 
Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 

A broken heart, a fount of tears, 

Ask, and they will not be denied ; 
A broken heart love's cradle is ; 

Jesus, our Love, is crucified ! 

O Love of God ! O sin of man ! 

In this dread act your strength is tried ; 
And victory remains with love, 

For He, our Love, is crucified ! 



J Ml HI JLHI..J —KWIMMM.^ 



330 



^ ROSARY FOR LENT. 



faster <£uen. 



S^Ijc Srpulc^rc 




ND, behold, there was a man named 
Joseph, a counsellor ; and he was 
a good man and a just : (the same 
had not consented to the counsel 
and deed of them ;) he was of Ari- 
mathaea, a city of the Jews : who also himself 
waited for the kingdom of God. 

This man went unto Pilate, and begged the 
body of Jesus. 

And he took it down, and wrapped it in 
linen, and laid it in a sepulchre that was 
hewn in stone, wherein never man before was 
laid. 

And that day was the preparation, and the 
Sabbath drew on. 



ttra—i 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 33 1 

And the women also, which came with him 
from Galilee, followed after, and beheld the 
sepulchre, and how his body was laid. 

And they returned, and prepared spices and 
ointments ; and rested the Sabbath day, accord- 
ing to the commandment. 



332 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



faster <&vtn. 



&Ije gcab in Cljrist. 



"(& &mt$t dead! to heaven 

With grudging sighs we gave you, 
To Him — be doubts forgiven ! — 

Who took you there to save you. 
O give us grace to love 

Their memories, yet more kindly, 
Pine for our homes above, 

And trust to Thee more blindly." 




colle6lions 
with Him 



HIS is a day for memories of the 
past, the stillness and the solitude 
aid the mind to restore scenes and 
events long gone by. Our Saviour 
should reign supreme in these re- 
our walk through life should be 
He should be the prominent figure 



■* 



A ROSART FOR LENT. 333 

in all our musings. But at His side walk some 
whose lives were ever sanctified by His presence 
and His love, and whose deaths did not divide 
them from Him. Yes ; on this still Sabbath, we 
may think on the Dead in Christ : in attending 
our Saviour's tomb, we may think on their funeral 
days, and remember, as they dropped one by 
one into the grave by His side, how we wept 
over them ; and yet remember, as their virtues, 
their graces, their worth, passed in review before 
us, we could but feel that they were leaving a 
world which was not worthy of them, to join a 
Saviour, who, to purchase their salvation, was a 
Man of Sorrows, and acquainted with grief ; who 
had borne their griefs and carried their sorrows ; 
who was stricken, smitten, afflicted ; who was 
wounded for their transgressions and bruised for 
their iniquities ; and who, having passed through 
the dark valley of the shadow of death, has pre- 
pared a place more fit for their abode. Write, 
" Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. 
Even so, saith the Spirit, for they rest from their 
labors." " O death ! Where is thy sting ? 
O grave ! Where is thy victory ? Thanks be to 
God, who giveth us the victory through our 
Lord Jesus Christ." 



zjrmrwBrmmrTzrsFni i \ ■ ■!' 

334 A BOSARY FOR LENT. 

U 24 



is good that a man should both hope, and 
quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord." 

The primroses with kindly gleam 

Are looking out from bower and brake ; 

As bright and quiet all things seem 
As if no heart on earth could ache. 

Yet He, the Sun who yester eve 
Set in that wild tempestuous gloom, 

When graves flew wide, and rocks were riven, 
Still lingers in the dreary tomb. 

Nor blame our peace ; for He will rise, 

His veil for evermore withdrawn ! 
O never yet shone vernal skies 

So pure as shall to-morrow dawn. v 

'Tis in that faith the flowers of earth 
Their very best make speed to wear, 

And e'en the funeral mound gives birth 
To wild thyme fresh and violets fair. 



©{ the intermediate state the notices in Holy 
Scripture are few, I apprehend, in number, and 
scanty in their record of particulars ; but they 
are enough, both in number and circumstances, 
to enable us to form a notion of that state, as a 
state of repose and enjoyment to the righteous ; 



+■ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 335 

though probably, not of that perfect and supreme 
enjoyment which will be allotted to them at the 
resurrection of the just. 

That the intermediate state of the righteous 
will be one of repose from the sufferings that 
mortality is heir to may be thought sufficiently 
plain from the declaration of St. John in the 
Revelation : " I heard a voice from heaven say- 
ing unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which 
die in the Lord from henceforth ; yea, saith the 
Spirit ; that they may rest from their labors ; 
and their works do follow them." Thus we 
understand that to those who " die in the Lord," 
their death will be the introduction to a state of 
undisturbed tranquillity ; they will " rest from 
their labors." That it will be their introduction 
to a state of enjoyment also, may perhaps be 
inferred from the ensuing clause, namely, " and 
their works do follow them ;" that is, the rewards 
consequent on their former " works." But we 
may perceive, more clearly, in other passages 
(St. Luke xvi. 23 ; St. Luke xxii. 43 ; 2 Cor. v. 8 ; 
Phil. i. 21-24; 2 Tim. iv. 8), a foundation for the 
opinion, that the righteous will enter upon a 
state of enjoyment immediately after their dis- 
solution. . . . From which passages we col- 
lect, that the intermediate state of the souls of 
the righteous is one of rest and repose ; not, 



* 



336 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

however, of insensibility, but of consciousness, 
and of positive and great enjoyment. Still that 
it will be succeeded by another state of yet 
superior happiness, when " the trumpet shall 
sound, and the dead shall be raised incorrup- 
tible, and we shall be changed ;" and when the 
" crown of righteousness " heretofore " laid up " 
for " all those who love the Lord's appearing," 
shall be " given to them by the Lord, the right- 
eous Judge," in the presence of assembled men 
and angels, " on that day." 

This view of the intermediate state of the 
righteous, altogether at variance as it is with the 
doctrine of purgatory, one of the gratuitous 
assumptions and unscriptural tenets of the Rom- 
ish Church, is well represented by our own 
scriptural Church ; whose words, in the last 
colled! but one of her " Order for the Burial of 
the Dead," may be here conveniently cited, as 
containing an excellent exposition of the doctrine 
of Holy Writ on the present subject:. 

" Almighty God, with whom do live the spirits 
of them that depart hence in the Lord, and with 
whom the souls of the faithful, after they are 
delivered from the burden of the flesh, are in joy 
and felicity ; we give Thee hearty thanks for that 
it hath pleased Thee to deliver this our brother 
out of the miseries of this sinful world ; beseech- 



•f 



sasss 



090B 



4 ROSARY FOR LENT. 



337 



ing Thee, that it may please Thee of Thy gra- 
cious goodness, shortly to accomplish the num- 
ber of Thine elect, and to hasten Thy Kingdom ; 
that we, with all those that are departed in 
the true faith of Thy holy name, may have our 
detfect consummation and bliss, both in body and 
soul, in Thy eternal and everlasting glory, 
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen? 



Plftitj heavenly voice, once heard in Patmos ! " Write 

Henceforth the dead who die in Christ are blest ; 

Yea, saith the Spirit, for they now shall rest 
From all their labors ! " But no dull dark night 
That rest o'ershadows ; 'tis the dayspring bright 

Of bliss ; the foretaste of a richer feast ; 

A sleep, if sleep it be, of lively zest, 
Peopled with visions of intense delight. 
And though the secrets of that resting place 

The soul embodied knows not ; yet she knows 
No sin is there God's likeness to deface, 

To stint His love no purgatorial woes ; 
Her dross is left behind, nor mixture base 

Mars the pure stream of her serene repose. 



" U?ro fly, O Lord ! And every year 

More desolate I grow; 
My world of friends thins round me fast, 

Love after love lies low. 
25 



* 



* 



33$ A BOS ART FOR LENT. 

There are fresh gaps around the hearth, 

Old places left unfilled, 
And young lives quenched before the old, 

And the love of old hearts chilled. 

Dear voices and dear faces missed ; 

Sweet households overthrown ; 
And what is left, more sad to see 

Than the sight of what has gone. 

All this is to be sanctified, 
This rupture with the past : 

For thus we die before our deaths 
And so die well at last." 



®{t£ land beyond the Sea ! 

When will life's task be o'er ? 

When shall we reach that soft blue shore, 

O'er the dark strait whose billows foam and roar ? 

When shall we come to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ? 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

How close it often seems, 

When flushed with evening's peaceful gleams ; 

And the wistful heart looks o'er the strait, and dreams ! 

It longs to fly to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 
Sometimes distinct and near 
It grows upon the eye and ear, 



■* 



*« 



ssBssansazzB 



* 



J. ROSARY FOR LENT. 339 

And the gulf narrows to a threadlike mere ; 
We seem half way to thee, 
Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

Sometimes across the strait, 

Like a drawbridge to a castle gate, 

The slanting sunbeams lie, and seem to wait 

For us to pass to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

O how the lapsing years, 

Mid our not unsubmissive tears, 

Have borne, now singly, now in fleets, the biers 

Of those we love, to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 
How dark our present home ! 
By the dull beach and sullen foam 
How wearily, how drearily we roam, 
With arms outstretched to thee, 
Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 
When will our toil be done ? 
Slow-footed years ! more swiftly run 
Into the gold of that unsetting sun ! 
Homesick we are for thee, 
Calm Land beyond the Sea! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 
Why fadest thou in light ? 



A 



340 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Why art thou better seen towards night ? 
Dear Land ! look always plain, look always bright, 
That we may gaze on thee, 
Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

Sweet is thine endless rest, 

But sweeter far that Father's Breast, 

Upon thy shores eternally possest ; 

For Jesus reigns o'er thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 



MsmmmsmiWiiiiNvmm Bi 



*' 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



341 



faster 83 at). 



€\z Jjjesttrrectton. 




HE first day of the week cometh 
Mary Magdalene early, when it was 
yet dark, unto the sepulchre, and 
seeth the stone taken away from 
the sepulchre. 
Then she runneth, and cometh to Simon 
Peter, and to the other disciple, whom Jesus 
loved, and saith unto them, " They have taken 
away the Lord out of the sepulchre, and we 
know not where they have laid Him." 

Peter therefore went forth, and that other dis- 
ciple, and came to the sepulchre. So they ran 
both together ; and the other disciple did outrun 



'Ifcltflllllii 



nrwrirrf 



*' 



34 2 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

Peter, and came first to the sepulchre. And he 
stooping down and looking in, saw the linen 
clothes lying ; yet went he not in. 

Then cometh Simon Peter following him, and 
went into the sepulchre, and seeth the linen 
clothes lie, and the napkin that was about His 
head, not lying with the linen clothes, but wrap- 
ped together in a place by itself. 

Then went in also that other disciple, which 
came first to the sepulchre, and he saw, and be- 
lieved. For as yet they knew not the scripture, 
that He must rise from the dead. 

Then the disciples went away again unto their 
own home. 

But Mary stood without at the sepulchre 
weeping ; and as she wept, she stooped down, 
and looked into the sepulchre, and seeth two 
angels in white, sitting, the one at the head, and 
the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus 
had lain. 

And they say unto her, " Woman, why weep- 
est thou ? " 

She saith unto them, " Because they have 
taken away my Lord, and I know not where 
they have laid Him." 

And when she had thus said, she turned her- 
self back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not 
that it was Jesus. 



*■ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



343 



Jesus saith unto her, " Woman, why weepest 
thou ? Whom seekest thou ? " 

She, supposing Him to be the gardener, saith 
unto Him, " Sir, if thou have borne Him hence, 
tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take 
Him away." 

Jesus saith unto her, " Mary." 

She turned herself, and saith unto Him, 
"Rabboni," which is to say, " Master," 

Jesus saith unto her, " Touch Me not ; for I 
am not yet ascended to My Father : but go to 
My brethren, and say unto them, ' I ascend unto 
My Father, and your Father, and to My God, 
and your God.' " 

Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples 
that she had seen the Lord, and that He had 
spoken these things unto her. 



* 



344 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



faster JDan. 



§lesnrgHm. 



^IMttto! Alleluia! 
Finished is the battle now ; 
The Crown is on the victor's brow ! 
Hence with sadness, 
Sing with gladness, 

Alleluia ! 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
After sharp death that Him befell, 
Jesus Christ hath harrowed hell. 
Earth is singing, 
Heaven is ringing, 

Alleluia ! 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
On the third morning He arose, 
Bright with victory o'er His foes. 

Sing we lauding, 

And applauding, 

Alleluia ! 



"■ft""*** 1 "*'^'^ ^ 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 345 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
He hath closed Hell's brazen door, 
And Heaven is open evermore ! 

Hence with sadness, 

Sing with gladness, 

Alleluia ! 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
Lord, by Thy wounds we call on Thee, 
So from ill death to set us free, 

That our living, 

Be Thanksgiving ! 

Alleluia ! *. 



|T is a dark prospe6l. Human history 
behind, and human history before, 
both give a stern " No" in reply to 
the question, " Shall we rise again ? " 
Six thousand years of human 
existence have passed away, — countless armies 
of the dead have set sail from the shores of time. 
No traveller has returned from the still land be- 
yond. More than one hundred and fifty genera- 
tions have done their work, and sunk into the 
dust again, and still there is not a voice, there is 
not a whisper, from the grave, to tell us whether, 
indeed, those myriads are in existence still. Be- 
sides, why should they be ? Talk as you will of 
the grandeur of man, why should it not be honor 
enough for him — more than enough, to satisfy 

15* 




* 



34-6 A R OS ART FOR LENT. 

a thing so mean — to have had his twenty or 
seventy years' life-rent of God's universe ? Why 
must such a thing, apart from proof, rise up and 
claim to himself an exclusive immortality ? 
Man's majesty ! Man's worth ! — the difference 
between him and the elephant or the ape is too 
degradingly small to venture much on. That is 
not all ; instead of looking backwards, now look 
forwards. The wisest thinkers tell us that there 
are already on the globe traces of a demonstra- 
tion that the human race is drawing to its close. 
Each of the great human family has had its day, 
its infancy, its manhood, its decline. The two 
last races that have not been tried are on the 
stage of earth, doing their work now. There is 
no other to succeed them. Man is but of yester- 
day, and yet his race is well-nigh done. Man is 
wearing out, as everything before him has been 
worn out. In a few more centuries the crust of 
earth will be the sepulchre of the race of man, as 
it has been the sepulchre of extincT: races of 
palm-trees, and ferns, and gigantic reptiles. . . . 
Now look at all this without Christ, and tell us 
whether it be possible to escape such misgivings 
and such reasonings as these, which rise out of 
such an aspecl: of things. Man, this thing of 
yesterday, which sprung out of the eternal 
nothingness, why may he not sink, after he has 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



347 



played his appointed part, into nothingness 
again ? You see the leaves sinking one by one 
in autumn, till the heaps below are rich, with the 
spoils of a whole year's vegetation. They were 
bright and perfect while they lasted, each leaf a 
miracle of beauty and contrivance. There is no 
resurrection for the leaves, — why must there be 
one for man ? Go and stand some summer even- 
ing, by the river side : you will see the May-fly 
sporting out its little hour, in dense masses of 
insect-life, darkening the air a few feet above the 
gentle swell of the water. The heat of that very 
afternoon brought them into existence. Every 
gauze wing is traversed by ten thousand fibres, 
which defy the microscope to find a flaw in their 
perfection. The omniscience and the care be- 
stowed upon that exquisite anatomy, one would 
think, cannot be destined to be wasted in a 
moment. Yet so it is. When the sun has sunk 
below the trees, its little life is done. Yesterday 
it was not ; to-morrow it will not be. God has 
bidden it be happy for one evening. It has no 
right or claim to a second ; and in the- universe, 
that marvellous life has appeared once, and will 
appear no more. May not the race of man sink 
like the generations of the May-fly ? Why can- 
not the Creator, so lavish in His resources, 
afford to annihilate souls as He annihilates in- 



34-8 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

sects ? Would it not almost enhance His glory 
to believe it ? 

That, brethren, is the question, and nature has 
no reply. The fearful secret of sixty centuries 
has not yet found a voice. The whole evidence 
lies before us. We know what the greatest and 
wisest have had to say in favor of an immor- 
tality ; and we know how, after eagerly devour- 
ing all their arguments, our hearts have sunk 
back in cold disappointment ; and to every proof 
as we read, our lips have replied, mournfully, 
That will not stand. Search through tradition, 
history, the world within you and the world 
without — except in Christ, there is not the shadow 
of a shade of proof that man survives the grave. 

I do not wonder that Thomas, with that honest, 
accurate mind of his, wishing that the news were 
true, yet dreading lest it should be false, and 
determined to guard against every possible delu- 
sion and deception, said, so strongly, " Except I 
shall see in His hands the print of the nails, and 
put my finger into the print of the nails, and 
thrust my hand into His side, I will not be- 
lieve." 

" Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou 
hast believed. Blessed are they that have not 
seen and yet have believed." This text tells us 
of two kinds of proof. The first is the evidence 



'■:• 



V '"~ J — ""'" i ■■ ■ i i mil ii i iiii m ii , n 



*, 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 349 

of the senses. The other is the evidence of the 
spirit. 

Let us scrutinize the external evidence of 
Christ's resurrection, which those verses fur- 
nish. It is a twofold evidence. The witness of 
the Apostle Thomas, who was satisfied with the 
proofs ; the witness of St. John, who records the 
circumstance of his satisfaction. Consider first 
the witness of St. John ; try it by ordinary rules. 
Hearsay evidence, which comes second-hand, is 
suspicious, but John's is no distant, hearsay 
story. He does not say that he had heard the 
story from Thomas, and that years afterwards, 
when the circumstances had lost their exact, sharp 
outline, he had penned it down, when he was 
growing old, and his memory might be failing. 
John was present the whole time. All the 
Apostles were there ; they all watched the result 
with eager interest. The conditions made by 
Thomas, without which he would not believe, had 
been made before them all. They all heard him 
say that the demonstration was complete ; they 
all saw him. touch the wounds, and St. John re- 
corded what he saw. Now, a scene like that is 
one of those solemn ones in a man's life which 
cannot be forgotten ; it graves itself on the me- 
mory. A story told us by another may be unin- 
tentionally altered or exaggerated in the repeti- 



BO 



350 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

tion ; but a spectacle like this, so strange and so 
solemn, could not be forgotten or misinterpreted. 
St. John could have made no mistake. Estimate 
next the worth of the witness of Thomas ; try it 
by the ordinary rules of life. Evidence is worth 
little if it is the evidence of credulity. If you find 
a man believing every new story, and accepting 
every fresh discovery, so called, without scrutiny, 
you may give him credit for sincerity ; you can- 
not rest much upon his judgment ; his testimony 
cannot go for much. ... 

Now, the resurrection of Christ does not stand 
on such a footing. There was one man who 
dreaded the possibility of delusion, however cre- 
dulous the others might be. He resolved before- 
hand that only one proof should be decisive. 
He would not be contented with seeing Christ ; 
that might be a dream, — it might be the vision 
of a disordered fancy. He would not be satisfied 
with the assurance of others. The evidence of 
testimony which* he did reject was very strong. 
Ten of his most familiar friends, and certain 
women, gave in their separate and their united 
testimony ; but against all that St. Thomas held out 
sceptically firm. They might have been deceiv- 
ed themselves ; they might have been trifling 
with him. The possibilities of mistake were in- 
numerable ; the delusions of the best men adout 



9BBBB9 



*' 



* 



A EOSAEY FOR LENT. 



35* 



what they see are incredible. He would trust 
a thing so infinitely important to nothing but his 
own scrutinizing hand. It might be some one 
personating his Master. He would put his 
hands into real wounds, or else hold it unproved. 
The allegiance which was given in so enthusias- 
tically, " My Lord and my God,"' was given in 
after and not before scrutiny. It was the cau- 
tious verdict of an enlightened, suspicious, most 
earnest and most honest sceptic. 

Try the evidence next by character. Blemish- 
ed character damages evidence. Now, the only 
charge that was ever heard against the Apostle 
John was that he loved a world which hated 
him. The character of the Apostle Thomas is 
that he was a man cautious in receiving evidence, 
and most rigorous in exacting satisfactory proof, 
but ready to act upon his conviction, when once 
made, even to the death. Love elevated above 
the common love of man, in the one, — heroic 
conscientiousness and a most rare integrity, in 
the other, — who impeaches that testimony ? 

Once more, — any possibility of interested mo- 
tives will discredit evidence. Ask we the motive 
of John or Thomas for this strange tale ? John's 
reward, — a long and solitary banishment to the 
mines of Patmos. The gain and bribe which 
tempted Thomas, — a lonely pilgrimage to the 



* 



35 2 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

far East, and death at the last in India. Those 
were strange motives to account for their per- 
sisting and glorying in the story of the resur- 
rection to the last ! Starving their gain, and 
martyrdom their price ! 

The evidence to which Thomas yielded, was the 
evidence of the senses, — touch, and sight, and 
hearing. Now, the feeling which arose from this 
touching, and feeling, and demonstration, Christ 
pronounced to be faith : " Thomas, because thou 
hast seen thou hast believed." There are some 
Christian writers who tell us that the conviction 
produced by the intellect or the senses is not faith ; 
but Christ says it is. Observe then, it matters 
not hozv faith comes, — whether through the in- 
tellect, as in the case of St. Thomas, or in the 
heart, as in the case of St. John, or as the result 
of long education, as in the case of St. Peter. 
God has many ways of bringing different charac- 
ters to faith ; but that blessed thing which the 
Bible calls faith is a state of the soul in which 
the things of God become glorious certainties. 
It was not faith which assured Thomas that 
what stood before him was the Christ he had 
known ; that was sight. But it was faith, which 
from the visible enabled him to pierce up to the 
truth invisible : " My Lord and my God." And 
it was faith which enabled him, through all life 



A EOS ART FOR LENT. 



353 



after, to venture everything on that conviction, 
and live for One who had died for him. 

Remark again this : The faith of Thomas 
was not merely satisfaction about a fact ; it 
was trust in a Person. The admission of a 
fact, however sublime, is not faith ; we may be- 
lieve that Christ is risen, yet not be nearer 
heaven. It is a Bible fact that Lazarus rose 
from the grave ; but belief in Lazarus' resurrec- 
tion does not make the soul better than it was. 
Thomas passed on from the fact of the resurrec- 
tion to the person of the risen : " My Lord and 
my God." Trust in the risen Saviour — that was 
the belief which saved his soul. 

And that is our salvation too. You may satis- 
fy yourself about the evidences of the resurrec- 
tion ; you may bring in your verdict well, like a 
cautious and enlightened judge ; you are then in 
possession of a fact, a most valuable and curious 
fact ; but faith of any saving worth you have not, 
unless from the fact you pass on, like Thomas, 
to cast the allegiance and the homage of your 
soul, and the love of all your being, on Him 
whom Thomas worshipped. It is not belief 
about the Christ, but personal trust in the Christ 
of God, that saves the soul. 

There is another kind of evidence by which 
the resurrection becomes certain. Not the evi- 



umm 



354 A ROSARY FOR LENT. 

dence of the senses, but the evidence of the 
spirit : " Blessed are they which have not seen 
and yet have believed." There are thousands 
of Christians, who have never examined the 
evidence of the Resurrection piece by piece ; 
they are incapable of estimating it if they did 
examine ; they know nothing about the laws of 
evidence ; they have had no experience in ba- 
lancing the value of testimony ; they are neither 
lawyers nor philosophers ; and yet these simple 
Christians have received into their very souls 
the Resurrection of their Redeemer, and look 
forward to their own rising from the grave with 
a trust as firm, as steady, and as saving as if 
they had themselves put their hands into His 
wounds. 

They have never seen, they know nothing of 
proofs and miracles, yet they believe, and are 
blessed. How is this ? 

I reply, there is an inward state of heart 
which makes truth credible the moment it is 
stated. It is credible to some men, because of 
what they are. Love is credible to a loving 
heart ; purity is credible to a pure mind ; life is 
credible to a spirit in which life ever beats 
strongly ; it is incredible to other men. Because 
of that such men believe. Of course, that in- 
ward state could not reveal a fact like the resur- 



gEaaamaamaaaaaaamm i ■ miniifirci m *|« 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



355 



rection ; but it can receive the fact the moment 
it is revealed without requiring evidence. The 
love of St. John himself never could discover 
a resurrection ; but it made a resurrection 
easily believed, when the man of intellect, St. 
Thomas, found difficulties. Therefore, " with 
the heart man believeth unto righteousness," 
and therefore "he that believeth on the Son of 
God hath the witness in himself," and therefore 
" Faith is the substance of things hoped for." 
Now, it is of such a state — a state of love and 
hope, which makes the Divine truth credible 
and natural at once — that Jesus speaks : " Bless- 
ed are they that have not seen, and yet have be- 
lieved." 

There are men in whom the resurrection 
begun makes the resurrection credible. In them 
the spirit of the risen Saviour works already ; and 
they have mounted with Him from the grave. 
They have risen out of the darkness of doubt, 
and are expatiating in the brightness and the 
sunshine of a Day in which God is ever Light. 
Their step is as free as if the clay of the sepul- 
chre had been shaken off, and their hearts are 
lighter than those of other men, and there is in 
them an unearthly triumph which they are un- 
able to express. They have risen above the 
narrowness of life, and all that is petty and 



■•■v:rv: 



* 



35$ A BOS ART FOR LENT. 

ungenerous and mean. They have risen above 
fear, — they have risen above self. In the New 
Testament, that is called the spiritual resurrec- 
tion, or being risen with Christ ; and the man in 
whom all that is working has got something 
more blessed than external evidence to rest upon. 
He has the witness in himself; he has not seen, 
and yet he has believed ; he believed in a resur- 
rection, because he has the resurrection in him- 
self. The resurrection, in all its heavenliness 
and unearthly elevation, has begun within his 
soul ; and he knows, as clearly as if he had 
demonstration, that it must be developed in an 
eternal life. 

Now, this is the higher and nobler kind of 
faith, — a faith more blessed than that of Thomas. 
" Because thou hast seen Me, thou hast believ- 
ed." There are times when we envy, as possess- 
ed of higher privileges, those who saw Christ in 
the flesh ; we think, that if we could have heard 
that calm voice, or seen that blessed presence, 
or touched those lacerated wounds in His sacred 
flesh, all doubt would be set at rest for ever. 
Therefore, these words must be our corrective. 
God has granted us the possibility of believing 
in a more trustful and generous way than if we 
saw. To believe, not because we are learned 
and can prove, but because there is a something 



-J- -^^iQTrrnirrttiViiiaiwiiMiiiiiiiiii i rr if [jMiiiwwww ■■■iiinn im ni " i-™™*- 



■* 



A ROSARY FOR LENT. 



357 



in us, even God's own Spirit, which makes us 
feel light as light, and truth as true, — that is the 
blessed faith. 

Blessed, because it carries with it spiritual 
elevation of character. Narrow the prospects 
of man to this time-world, and it is impossible 
to escape the conclusions of the Epicurean sen- 
sualist. If to-morrow we die, let us eat and drink 
to-day. If we die the sinner's death, it becomes 
a matter of mere taste whether we shall live the 
sinner's life or not. But, if our existence is for 
ever, then plainly, that which is to be daily sub- 
dued and subordinated is the animal within us ; 
that which is to be cherished is that which is 
likest God within us, — which we have from 
Him, and which is the sole pledge of eternal 
being in spirit-life. 



1$£ still, my heart ! Upon thy stress and strife, 

Wrestling with fears that crowd thee from the grave ; 
Christ breathes this sovereign spell to make thee brave : 

" I am the Resurrection and the life." 

His whispered " Peace" to storm-vexed Galilee 

Hushed every wave as in a holy sleep ; 

In holier calm his words to Martha steep 
The surging floods of Death's tumultuous sea. 






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358 



A EOS ART FOE LENT. 



My narrow house within lie shadows rife, 
And I shrink back from its half-open door ; 
Till Faith discerns Christ's inscript on its floor, — 

" I am the Resurrection and the life." 

O words divine ! the tomb of Lazarus heard 
Your first evangel, and gave up its dead ; 
Thence, evermore, your echoes shall outspread, 

Till all the dust of men to life is stirred. 

To life, once more, the dust of all the dead, 

Flushed with the breath of Christ's command, shall rise. 
All is not o'er when shut these mortal eyes ; 

The race not run when earth's few steps are sped. 

O ! to lie down with darkness and the worm, 
For these to fold and fasten on, for prey, 
The god-like powers of my strong soul to-day, 

Were fear to toss me with relentless storm. 

Upon this storm, to quell its deadly strife, 

And make the grave the gate of heaven appear, 
With rainbow hues the omnific words shine clear, — 

" I am the Resurrection and the life." 

Now need I yet but loving faith alone 

In Him who spoke those words of power divine — 
To make His Life and Resurrection mine, 

Beyond the grave, and spite of cumbering stone. 

My narrow house no more with gloom is rife, 
When Faith and Love beside its portals sit, 
And with my Saviour's words illumine it — 

" I am the Resurrection and the life." 



<Uf W.LJULIMMWIMIHI.m^— B— MB— lULJL.OUi- .'-JW.ua 



^ rosary jpwz z.bot. 359 

assume then, in the first place, that the 
apparent import of some passages and phrases 
of Scripture tends to suggest the belief that the 
die of human nature, as to its form and figure, is 
to be used again in a new world. Partly on the 
ground of inferences from general principles, 
and partly on the strength of particular asser- 
tions, we suppose that the fair and faultless 
paradisiacal model of human beauty and majesty, 
which stood forward as the most illustrious in- 
stance of creative wisdom — the bright gem of 
the visible world — this form too, which has been 
borne and consecrated by incarnate deity — that 
it shall at length regain its forfeited honors, and 
once more be pronounced " very good ;" so good 
as to forbid its being superseded ; on the con- 
trary, that it shall be reinstated and allowed, 
after its long degradation, to enjoy its birthright 
of immortality. 

It is true, indeed, that the inspired writers 
put a disparagement upon those adventitious 
recommendations of the person to which, in our 
fondness and folly, we are prone to attach an 
inordinate importance. Nevertheless, while they 
do so, they are far from using the style of cynics 
or of stoics ; much less do they, like the atheist, 
throw contempt upon human nature, or spurn 
the conditions of the animal and social economy, 



A> 



3^0 A BOSARY FOB LENT. 

or pride themselves, like the mystic, upon a 
sovereign disdain of all ordinary motives and 
affections. Nothing of this sort do we meet with 
in the Scriptures : on the contrary, not merely 
the prophets and poets of the Old Testament, 
but our Lord and His Apostles, uniformly treat 
with a grave respect whatever is part and parcel 
of human nature : — a respect well becoming 
devout minds, which are apt to discern, and are 
prepared to reverence the Creator in all His 
works. From the general tone of the inspired 
persons we might gather the opinion that in 
speaking of the human body, they, with a pro- 
phetic eye, beheld it as destined to a new and 
permanent glory, and as intended to stand as 
the image of God, freed from distortions and 
blemishes, and exempt from decay. 



THE END. 



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